Ward 17
by logarhythm
Summary: Ed was kidnapped and tortured for nine months. After a rather disturbing emotional breakdown in front of his colleagues, Ed checks himself into the mental ward - where he finds a crazy 'witch' of a girl who might not be so crazy after all. EdxLuna [HIATUS]
1. Prologue: Tortured

**A new story~ :D Another EdxLuna XD**

**Not as depressing as it looks. Really. :3 This is just the progolue. No angsty torture in the first chapter, I promise XD**

**Disclaimer~**

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><p><strong>Prologue - Tortured<strong>

It has been six months. Six months in this place. Six months - no, _half __a __year, __half __a __precious __year_ with _nothing_. I'm kept here, in this room - _cell_ - with the acid-corroded floor and stone walls littered with bullet holes. I barely even notice anymore when the Madman arrives. It used to scare me half to death - literally, sometimes - when I heard loud, uneven footsteps crescendo until they reached what was left of the metal barricade at the entrance. I would whimper like a puppy when his crazed, manic cackles echoed down the rotting hallway and screamed in my ears _I__'__m__coming__I__'__m__coming__I__'__m__coming_.

Now, though, I just relax my muscles and feign sleep. I learnt the hard way that he's easier on me if he thinks I'm asleep - he told me one day (_or __was __it __night?_) that he likes watching people writhe in agony; the pleas for death in their eyes raise him to a new high every time. He said that people are less fun when they're sleeping.

That doesn't mean he doesn't torture them anyway.

I attempt to move - if I shift a little to my left, my automail leg can take a bit more of my body weight and the dagger pinning my left arm to the wall above my head will stop its slow, agonising slice down my forearm. I guess, for once, I'm glad he starved me almost to death - the lighter I am, the less weight my arm takes while keeping me upright, and the less likely it is that the dagger will manage to slice my entire arm in two. I must weigh... what, four stone now? Something like that. I think I get a glass of water every two days - _"__-no__fun__if__you__died-__"_ - and a slice of bread every three. Not enough, but too much for my weak stomach to handle. I usually puke it up the next day.

I reach my automail hand up - it's a slow and painful process now, after he tore half the port off my shoulder - and reach for the left side of my face. I almost forgot he left a dagger in my left eye. I nearly laugh at the absurdity of it all - who in their right minds would _forget_ someone had just stabbed them in the eye and left the dagger there? Well, not me obviously - after all, I've doubted my sanity ever since the first couple of months when I swear I saw a giant flood of electric eels flying through the ceiling.

"I'm coming, my darling!" There he is again. The Madman. I close my eyes and let my arm take my weight again - _fuck __it __hurts _- and slump down into a convincing slumber.

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Here we go again.

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><p><strong>:D This is actually more hurtcomfort than angst. I just needed to set the scene, y'know? XD**

**Review? Fave? Alert? :3**


	2. One: Revelation

**Here we go! :D I told you it would be less depressing... Though I think this is probably one of the happiest chapters of the story XD**

**Sorry for all the time skips XD;;**

**Disclaimer~**

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><p><strong>Chapter One - Revelation<strong>

_Three months later_

Roy sighed grouchily, slumping his forehead into his large palms, earning a rather sharp glare from his right-hand man.

"You have paperwork to finish, sir. You can sulk later."

"I know, Lieutenant. It's just... Fuery called me earlier with the results of the latest lead on Fullmetal."

At this, Hawkeye's head snapped up. "What were they, Colonel?"

"Another dead end."

Hawkeye's unwavering gaze softened slightly - she knew the Colonel was very protective of his 'team' and punished himself harshly if any of them ever got wounded or, in Edward's case, went MIA. This familial care for his subordinates was something that gave Riza the strength to work for him - he may have been unmistakably stubborn and he annoyed the hell out of his colleagues at times, but he cared for them, which was far more than could be said for some soldiers. Power usually corrupts the mind, after all.

Roy sighed again. "Is it really worth it, Hawkeye?" he whispered.

"Of course, sir. You and I both know you would never forgive yourself if you gave up searching for Edward." She sent him a motherly glare before adding, "And guilt affects your ability to do paperwork, so I am thoroughly against that idea."

Roy smirked resignedly at Hawkeye. "I guess you're right, Lieutenant."

Roy had just picked up his pen and pulled yet another accounting form off the five-inch stack on his desk when the door burst open, slamming against the wall beside it in a fashion that mimicked Edward so much it sent a chill down the Colonel's spine.

"Sir!"

Roy jerked him head up, blinking in surprise at the figure he least expected to see panting at his office door. "Sciezska."

"There's something you need to know, sir!" Roy was sure it would have been a rather loud shriek if not for the fact she was still panting like a dog. He made a mental note to put her on a training regime as soon as this problem was sorted.

Because people only ever burst into Roy Mustang's office about problems.

"What is it, Sciezska? And who sent you?" Roy sighed.

"Fuery sent me, sir!" She whapped her hand against her forehead in a rather late salute and she regained her breath.

Roy's eyes narrowed. "What did he send you here for?"

"He told me to tell you he made a mistake with Edward's information, sir!"

Roy was on his feet and at the doorframe before poor Sciezska could blink. "Where is he?" he asked, though he was already striding down the corridor ahead of her.

"Intelligence. I'm not sure where exactly, sir."

"He is talking to Hughes?" Roy's brain was whirring.

"I-I think so, sir. He didn't tell me." Sciezska was having to almost jog to keep up with Roy's brisk stride, though he paid no heed to it and kept walking as fast as he could without raising alarm from other passing soldiers.

"I see. Do you know what the mistake in Fullmetal's report was?"

"No, sir. Sorry, sir." There was a high-pitched squeal as Sciezska ran straight into an opening door that Roy had barely missed.

"Watch where you're going, Sciezska!" the Major yelled.

"Not her fault, Handel," Roy interjected before he could cause a scene and slow Roy down even more. "She was following me."

Knowing he couldn't talk back to a superior officer, Handel just nodded and showed Roy a crude salute before marching back into his office.

"Thank you," Sciezska mumbled.

"Don't thank me, Sciezska," Roy sighed. "That guy's a bastard."

Sciezska smiled slightly, and Roy could swear he heard her giggling behind him.

They arrived at the Department of Investigations precisely three minutes later. Roy strode straight up to the desk and said, "Colonel Roy Mustang, here to see Master Sergeant Fuery."

The man currently lazing behind the desk bolted upright at the mention of 'Roy Mustang', and rapidly began searching through files and notes various soldiers and officers had left on his desk. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes's office, sir. He checked in there about... half an hour ago, sir."

"Thank you," Roy glanced at the man's epaulettes, "Corporal."

The Corporal nodded and briskly saluted as Roy turned away and head for his best friend's office. Sciezska threw a timid return salute over her shoulder as she hurried after him.

It was only a two-minute walk to Maes's office, and the pair made their way there in silence. Roy was beginning to feel rather emotional and panicky - he was excited that there might be some evidence on Ed's current location after all; but at the same time, he was dreading finding a report that proved he was dead.

_No_, Roy assured himself, _Fullmetal__'__s __too __hard-headed __and __stubborn __to __die_.

Though whatever thoughts he forced into his head, Roy couldn't shake off the ever-growing sense of doubt in Ed's survival. Sure, Ed was strong, stronger than most of the military soldiers even twice his age were - but that didn't mean he was invincible. He'd been missing for nine months, and even if he _was_ still alive, Roy wasn't sure what state he'd be in, physically and mentally.

He just didn't want to think about it.

Roy bumped into Kain as he was exiting the office, earning himself a startled yelp from his subordinate and a haphazard salute. "S-sir!"

"I heard you had news on Fullmetal, Fuery."

Fuery's face immediately brightened, and Roy took it as a good sign as he followed him into the office. Fuery had never been too good at hiding his emotions, so signs of happiness were always good.

"Hey, Roy," Hughes grinned from behind his desk, though he was standing.

"Hughes," Roy acknowledged.

"I'm guessing you're here for the information on Edward?" Hughes sensed Roy's mood and went straight into serious mode, but his almost manic grin didn't disappear like it usually did, further confirming Roy's steadily growing hope.

"Of course. Why else?" Roy shot Hughes a wry grin of his own.

"Well," Hughes began, "the Master Sergeant here wasn't quite sure he'd analyzed the fabric properly, and he said he recognized the smell faintly, though he couldn't find any physical proof it was actually Edward's jacket. So he came to me about it, and I took one look at it and it was obvious it was transmuted. 'Now', I thought, 'who wears an alchemically transmuted, bright red cotton jacket with the Flamel's Cross marked on the back?" Hughes lifted the scrap of material into Roy's line of sight. It was about six inches long and a couple of inches wide, and showed the bottom of what was unmistakably the Flamel's Cross disappearing off the top of the fabric cutting.

"My god," Roy breathed. "Where did you find it?"

"You wouldn't believe it - _Aerugo_."

Roy's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. _Aerugo?_

"No way."

"Yes way." Hughes grinned again. And by the looks of things, he snagged it on the bush it was found on pretty recently. Look, the leaves stuck in it are still half-alive."

Roy stepping right up to the desk until he was almost leaning over it, and sure enough the leaves still just about resembled the colour green. _No __wonder __we __haven__'__t __found __any __trace __of __him __up __until __now_, Roy thought in astonishment. _He__'__s __been __in __Aerugo __the __entire __time_.

Roy jerked himself back into the present. "Have you dispatched troops to look for him?"

"The same time we sent Sciezska to look for you."

Roy sighed in relief and slumped forward towards Hughes's desk, leaning his arms against the edge for support, too emotionally worn out to make an effort to look composed. It was only in front of his best friend, his subordinate and his subordinate's girlfriend, after all.

Hughes laughed. "I know - we were all beginning to lose hope. Everyone in the department is celebrating. Soon word will have spread to your section, Roy, and I'm sure they'll throw a party. Actually, you might want to warn Lieutenant Hawkeye beforehand about that..."

Roy laughed, too happy to care much about that right now. "I guess I should get back. Tell Hawkeye why the hell I suddenly vanished."

"I'm sure she'll be happy to hear it, Roy," Hughes grinned, slapping Roy in the back.

"Thank you, Hughes," Roy murmured, smiling genuinely at his best friend.

"Don't thank me - thank Ed for staying alive. All I did was find the evidence." Hughes winked.

Roy smirked. "Will do."

Roy almost skipped back to his office. The soldiers passing him obviously noticed the strange and rather sudden change in demeanor, and were whispering about it quite loudly when they though Roy couldn't hear. He could even swear one of the whispers was about 'marriage' and 'Hawkeye', at which he promptly snorted.

Roy could barely contain his excitement as he burst through the door to his office, and he thought he finally understood why Fullmetal always smashed his door to pieces after he found a new lead on the philosopher's stone.

"Colonel." Hawkeye swiftly stood at attention and saluted, but quickly dropped her hand as she noticed the euphoric grin on her superior's face. "Colonel...?" she asked uncertainly.

"Hughes and Fuery found evidence that Fullmetal's still alive."

The sentence explained it all, and every occupant of the room immediately burst into loud whoops and cheers. Even Hawkeye was smiling broadly. "Glad to hear it, sir."

"Where was he?" Havoc asked.

"Aerugo."

"_Aerugo?_"

"My reaction exactly, Breda."

"No wonder we couldn't find him..." Falman muttered in awe.

"Have they sent out men to find him?" Breda asked, always the responsible one.

"Yes. Hopefully we'll find him in a matter of days, and he'll be back here by next week."

"Awesome!" Havoc exclaimed, punching the air, and losing balance on the chair he was swinging on, falling backwards and landing on his back on the floor. "Ow."

Everyone laughed, compelled by the good spirits Ed's imminent return had brought them. The office just wasn't the same without the loud, cocky teenager laced in red and gold storming in and out of the room at all hours of the day and night.

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><p><em>Four days later<em>

"Over here, sir! I found more of his jacket!" An Amestrian soldier dispatched to Aerugo shouted across the abandoned farmhouse.

"Good work!" Second Lieutenant Maria Ross yelled back, quickly making her way over to the location quickly being surrounded by soldiers. True to the solder's word, there was another scrap of the Fullmetal Alchemist's trademark red coat flying in the breeze, clinging onto a tree branch.

The eleven soldiers dispatched to the Rucklin state of Aerugo had so far found thirteen pieces of evidence that the Fullmetal Alchemist had passed through. The trail was roughly straight through the centre of the state, left to right. However, this was the closest piece of evidence to Amestris so far, and Ross had a hunch Ed had stayed in this abandoned farmhouse for quite a time while escaping from whatever he was escaping from. _He __might __even __still __be __in __there_.

"Men!" Ross yelled.

The ten grunts snapped to attention. "Yes, sir!"

"I want that farmhouse searched - every single square inch must be covered and thoroughly investigated. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir!" The men proceeded to scramble into the dilapidated building, some forced to climb through broken windows to reach half-collapsed roofs. Maria would have liked to investigate the place herself, but she had to stay outside and explain to numerous rather miffed Aerugoans why there were Amestrian soldiers roaming around and searching people.

It must have been around ten minutes later that the first man emerged from the farmhouse.

"Anything?" Maria asked.

"No, sir. Just piles of rubble and old farm equipment."

Three minutes after that, the second man approached her.

"Anything?" she asked again, hoping for better results.

"Not really, sir - there were some old farming tools lying around though. I reckon someone must've had an accident with them."

"Why do you say that, Smith?"

"Well, there was blood on some of 'em. Weeks old, I'd say. Maybe even months, sir."

Ross swallowed the lump in her throat. "I see. Well done."

"Thank you, sir," and the soldier joined the other on a nearby rock.

The rest of the soldiers gradually emerged. They all said similar things. She mentally sighed. So this was probably just some old building that Edward had decided to stay in because it was shelter. Time to move on.

"Let's move, men."

"But sir!" a soldier interrupted before they could start marching.

"Yes, Smith?"

"Jones is still in there, sir."

Maria really did sigh this time. "Can someone go fetch him? It's highly unlikely that he's going to find anything different to what the other nine of you found."

"Yes, sir!" one soldier saluted before marching towards the building.

He'd only gotten three steps towards it, however, before Jones emerged on his own.

"Jones!" Maria shouted. "What's the hold up-"

Ross stopped dead in her tracks as she caught sight of the expression on the young solder's face. Apparently, the rest of the unit had seen it as well, because there was a general murmur of unrest as Jones stopped at a stumbling, unsteady halt a few feet in front of her. _Did __the __blood __shake __him __up? __Maybe __he__'__s __scared __of __it._ But Ross quickly shook off the idea. Who in their right mind would join the army if they had a phobia of blood?

"What happened?" she asked in a slightly kinder, though just as firm, tone.

"Y-you wouldn't believe it," the man whispered.

"What happened? What did you see?" Maria repeated.

"I-in the basement-" he took in a sudden gasp of breath, as if even talking about it would break him. "In the basement," he started again after a brief pause, "there was... something."

In the second it took for Ross to analyze those words, another soldier spoke up. "What basement? What the hell are you talkin' 'bout, Jones?"

Maria turned to him, angry. "What do you mean, 'what basement'? I told each and every one of you to search the _entire __building_, didn't I?"

The soldier cowered slightly under her glare. "Y-yes, sir."

"Did _any_ of you search the basement?" she asked irritably.

There was an incoherent murmur and a few confused head movements, but Maria gathered that the general consensus was 'no'.

She reached up and massaged her temple. "What was in the basement, Jones?"

"T-the..." Jones trailed off.

"The?" Maria prompted in frustration.

Jones dragged in a raspy lungful of air before breathing almost inaudibly, "The... The _Fullmetal __Alchemist_, sir."

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><p><em>Two hours later<em>

"Sir!"

That was the second time this week he'd had someone burst into his office and loudly exclaim 'Sir!'.

"What is it, Fuery?" Roy sighed.

"Edward is confirmed alive, sir!"

Roy's heart skipped a beat.

Fuery rushed on, ignoring his superior's dumbstruck expression. "Second Lieutenant Maria Ross reported him alive in east Rucklin about an hour ago, sir! She said he's in pretty bad shape, but he's alive and doesn't look like he's going to die anytime soon! They've got him on a military train, and he's being taken here as soon as he arrives in Central. They want one of your men to be stationed there to take him to the infirmary. They also said to call Miss Rockbell, because his automail's pretty much destroyed. He should be arriving here in roughly two days, sir!" Fuery was panting by the end - Roy wasn't sure whether it was from running all the way from Investigations or from talking non-stop for thirty seconds.

There was a pause.

"He's alive?" Roy breathed.

"Yes, sir!" Fuery joyously confirmed, not bothering to salute. He wasn't going to get done in for insubordination right after he confirmed Edward's survival and safety.

Roy sighed heavily in relief, letting his head thump against his desk. He laughed slightly, though he didn't know why. Fullmetal was alive. Fullmetal was _alive_. "Thank you, Fuery. I'll ask Fuhrer Grumman about a promotion for you."

Fuery's face lit up. "Thank you, sir!"

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><p><em>Two hours earlier<em>

"You... You found Edward?" Ross breathed.

"Y-yes, sir."

"Show me where he is."

Jones shifted in his spot.

"What's wrong, Jones? I only asked you to show me where Edward is!"

"I-I know, sir, but you might n-not like to... to see him, sir," Jones murmured.

Maria narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, Jones?"

"W-well, sir, he's... uh... he doesn't look too good."

Maria's eyes widened, before narrowing again. "Show me. I want to see for myself how bad his condition is."

"B-but-"

"That is an order!"

Jones squeaked, before shuffling towards the wrecked building. He led Maria through old pigsties and down a very well-concealed set of rickety wooden stairs. He abruptly stopped and moved aside for Maria to go first.

"Why did you stop, Jones?" she asked quietly. She couldn't bear to speak loudly in this place - it felt _creepy_, even to a seasoned soldier such as herself.

"Because - just see for yourself, sir." Jones gulped.

Maria didn't question him - instead she hurried down the creaking steps as Jones stayed at the top.

"My... _god_," she breathed, and her breath hitched in her throat. Never had she ever seen something like this... She could barely even tell it was _Edward_.

She barely stifled a horrified gasp as Edward spoke - his voice wasn't a powerful, smooth alto, like it had been ever since he was twelve. It was a scratchy, raspy tenor, and that in itself scared the Lieutenant half to death.

"Ross...?"

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><p><strong>Sorry, cliffy... XD;;<strong>

**Just in case you're interested, this story is inspired by a song, the English version of Bad Apple. I suggest you look it up - it's pretty damn good ;3**

**Jones~ 3 My surname is Jones, so when I realised I'd have to name loads of soldiers I named one after meeeeee~ :D**


	3. Two: Saving Edward

**You can tell I've been mentally planning this scene for ages. XD**

**Disclaimer~**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two - Saving Edward<strong>

She could barely even tell it was Edward.

Congealed blood stained his golden hair a deathly red, and it was loose, draped limply over his shoulder. There was a horrific half-healed dagger wound on his left eye, leaving a dark diamond slit of scar tissue over his left pupil and over and under the eye. He seemed to have been shot in the neck at some point, as there were entrance and exit holes on the front and back of his neck, and his left arm was pinned to the wall by a serrated dagger. His automail was stripped down to the wires, but still seemed to be functioning, and his shirt was nowhere to be found. Ross had to resist the overpowering urge to look away and throw up when she noticed the lump of flesh missing from in between his right hip and his ribcage, and it became progressively harder to not throw up when she noticed the infected and inflamed flesh surrounding it. It was clear almost every bone in his body was broken, a couple so long ago they seemed to have healed in place while jutting out of his right leg. Add to that the fact that almost everywhere you looked there was a half-healed scar (or in some cases, a still-bleeding wound), and...

"E... E-Edward...? Is that you?" Maria whispered.

"Ross..." Ed let out a disturbing sort of half-chuckle, half-sob and grinned painfully at her. "So the military finally found me, huh?"

Ross wasn't quite sure why, but something about the way he ground the words out greatly unnerved her, and it made her want to leave even faster. "Edward... I've got to get you out of there."

Edward rolled his eyes, wincing when his left eyeball brushed his eyelid. "Well done, genius."

Maria decided to let the behaviour-scolding come _after_ she got him safely back to Central. "How much blood have you lost?"

"A lot."

Maria bit her lip. If he'd lost a lot of blood already, he might not make it if she withdrew the dagger pinning his arm to the wall. "Is there some alchemical thing you could do to stop the bleeding if I took out the dagger?"

"Dunno. You'd have to ask Al about that." At Maria's worried expression, he added, "But I guess I could try. I'm not known as an alchemical prodigy for nothing."

Maria nodded to Jones, still waiting stiffly at the top of the stairs, and signaled for him to get the rest of the men. They wouldn't have to worry about not being able to carry Edward - he looked barely six stone - but they'd need to be extremely careful while lifting him, so as not to disrupt any broken or half-healed bones.

Two minutes later and nine more men rushed down the stairs, some physically recoiling at the sight of the broken boy in front of them.

"Help now, gawk later," Maria ordered. She pulled out the knife (blood spurted everywhere as the serrated edge sawed through Ed's skin), dropping it on the floor, and Ed sealed the entrance and exit wounds of the knife before he could bleed out. She and her ten men each gently lifted him, surprisingly with minimal resistance from Ed, and within five minutes they were outside, and Ed was lying in the six-inch grass.

"Find a telephone! Call Central and tell Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes that Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric is alive!" Maria shouted at Smith and another three soldiers.

Ed cocked his head in her direction. "Lieutenant Colonel?"

Ross sat down next to Edward's head. "Yeah. You were promoted while you were MIA. Something about 'sacrificing himself to save a country'." Maria smiled fondly at him.

Ed snorted. "All I did was run into a grenade. What's so heroic about that?"

Maria rolled her eyes. "Who else do you know that would willingly run headfirst into a grenade to save his superior officer, who would, in turn, save his team, which would save all of Amestris from Drachma?"

Ed smiled. "We won?"

"We _destroyed_ them."

Ed chuckled under his breath. "Nice to know I didn't end up like this for nothing."

Maria sobered slightly. "About that... How exactly _did_ you end up like that?"

"The grenade must've knocked me unconscious after I took the hit, and I woke up on the border of the Northern Forests. Then some whacko knocked me out again, and next thing I know I'm stuck in that hellhole in Aerugo."

Maria gulped, not liking where this conversation was going. "Some whacko?"

"Yeah. I called him the 'Madman'."

"Why?"

"Because he was mad."

There was a long pause.

"Did he... Did the Madman do that to you?" Maria gestured at Ed's body.

Ed grimaced. "Yeah," he ground out, his teeth gritted.

Maria paled, looking away. Edward, the child; Edward, the adult; Edward, the _hero_ had been captured and tortured for someone's personal _pleasure_?

Ed's breathing became slightly laboured, and the rasps of his breath began to hitch in his throat, causing him to cough out a good tablespoon of blood onto the yellowed grass.

"Edward? Are you okay?" Maria asked, still somewhat paranoid that Edward was going to just suddenly _die_ right in front of her.

"F-fine," he choked out. "N-need... to sit up." He gasped for breath, and Maria hurriedly hoisted him upright, ignoring the rather brutal scar running down his right shoulder blade as she touched it.

"Edward?"

His breathing evened out, though it was still heavy, and his eyes closed in what Ross guessed must've been pain.

"Are you okay now?" she whispered after a few minutes.

Edward gulped. "Yeah. I guess... I shouldn't lie down."

Maria's brows furrowed. "You're going to have to lie down in the hospital."

Ed groaned, slumping forward like a child who had just been told he had homework to do. "I hate hospitals," he whined.

Maria blinked. "You didn't think you were actually going to get out of this without going to a hospital, did you?"

"I forgot."

"How could you _forget_ you were half-dead?"

"I'm not half-dead. Just..." Ed glanced down at himself. "Badly hurt."

Maria sighed, but blinked as a thought occurred to her. "Hang on... Why did you have to check?"

"Huh?" Ed deadpanned.

"You had to check how badly wounded you were."

"Oh, that." Ed waved it off nonchalantly. "The Madman fucked up my nervous system, so I can barely feel anything. I'm numb all over." Ed showed a grim smirk, making Ross shudder almost inconceivably. "Of course, I didn't tell the Madman that. He would've killed me if he found out I wasn't feeling any of it."

Maria gaped. "How much does it hurt?"

"Um... Well, my eye, my right side and my right leg feel sort of like bad cramp, and the rest... sort of like pinpricks, really. So, not that much."

"Wow," Maria laughed slightly. "He really messed up your nerves."

Ed grinned nervously.

"Do you know _why_ your eye, your right side and your right leg hurt so much?" Maria asked, hoping Ed would say yes.

"No."

Maria inwardly grimaced, and kicked herself for asking the question in the first place. "Because you were stabbed in the eye, you're missing lots of flesh from your right side and your right leg has healed with the bone sticking out of it."

Ed glanced down at his leg, the only major injury he could see properly, and squinted at it. He drew back after a few seconds, blinking bemusedly. "Oh. I didn't notice. It was too dark down there to see it, and I can only see with one eye, so I wasn't sure if that white thing was grass or not..." Ed began to giggle stupidly. Ross was right. How could he _not __realise_ he was deformed?

Ed's brain processes slowed right down, and he stopped laughing. _Deformed_. He was blind in his left eye, he would probably have trouble with his right leg for the rest of his life, and he was missing a chunk of flesh out of his right side, not to mention the innumerable slashes and carvings on his skin...

He was _deformed_.

The thought struck Ed like a thousand-ton weight, so much that he even physically wavered in his seated position in the deserted field. He may not _feel_ any of the injuries (much), but that didn't mean they weren't _there_.

Ed hesitantly drew his left arm up and towards his opposite side. He slowly trailed his palm against his scarred stomach, flinching when his fingertips met open air prematurely. He slowly cast his gaze downwards, and recoiled when he caught sight of the disgusting purple and green skin _bubbling_ under his fingers. There was a good four cubic inches missing, and Ed wondered how he was still functioning. _Surely_ it must have encroached upon his internal organs? But Ed set aside all thoughts of his well-being, deciding that was for the doctors to worry about. And Al.

_Oh__god,__Al._ Ed paled. What would his brother say if he saw Ed like this? What if Al had given up hope on Ed's return and committed suicide? Ed could already see the headlines: '_The __Fullmetal __Brother __dying __to __reunite __with __family_'. "Ross," he said suddenly, unreasonably overcome with panic and paranoia. "How's Al?"

Maria smiled. "He's fine. Depressed, but fine."

Ed sighed in relief, flopping forward in his stance. One less thing to worry about, one more person to worry about things for him. "That's good," he breathed.

Maria chuckled.

"Sir!" Smith came jogging towards Ross, panting slightly but unwilling to let it show. "We contacted Central. They told us to put you through. They're waiting, sir."

Maria frowned. "How far?"

"About a kilometre, sir."

Ross raised an eyebrow. "So why did it take you forty-five minutes to obtain contact?"

"Central is very secure, sir. There were three passwords and... and we couldn't remember them all."

Maria resisted the urge to put her head in her hands, and instead told Smith to watch Edward while she got contact with Central.

"Yes, sir!" he responded, snapping into a salute.

As soon as Maria turned her back, Smith dropped the salute and shoved his hands into his pockets, though Ed suspected it was more to hide the fact that they were shaking than anything else.

Ed decided to be kind and start the conversation the man was so obviously itching to have. "Hey," he said stoically.

"H-hey, sir?" the man said uncertainly, and his hand rose in a half-salute, not sure whether he should be respectful or treat Edward like the eighteen-year-old he was.

Ed sniggered, startling Smith. Ed rolled his eyes. "Don't bother with any of that formal shit," he said, still smirking. "Respect me because I'm worth respecting, not because of my rank."

Smith looked somewhat ruffled, unused to this kind of attitude to the military, but seemed to welcome it all the same. "O-okay."

There was a sort of awkward pause, in which Ed was coughing gently, hoping he wasn't going to lose his voice, and Smith was standing in the middle of the field, not sure whether to be blunt or skirt around the subject for a bit first.

"You sure are an indecisive person, aren't you?" Ed commented casually, _almost __to __himself_, Smith noted.

Smith jumped. "W-what do you mean?"

"You can't decide how to talk to me, you can't decide what to say to me, you can't decide how to act around me. Just _ask __me __the __fucking __questions._" Ed shot Smith a dark smirk, at which Smith's skin crawled.

"Y-you're the Fullmetal Alchemist, aren't you?" Smith asked.

"Nah, I'm you," Ed responded sarcastically, reminding himself of Truth.

Smith seemed like he was trying not to be taken aback by Edward's personality, but was failing miserably. It was really rather funny, in Ed's opinion.

"How... how did you end up...?" Smith gestured at Ed.

"Drachman soldiers let the bears on me," Ed answered with a perfectly straight face - something Riza had taught him in case he was ever interrogated and needed to lie.

Smith shuddered slightly, turning away. Ed smirked at his stiff back.

"Smith, Edward!" Ross shouted from across the field. Smith saluted, and Ed grinned.

Ross came to stop in front of the two. "Edward, you better not be harassing and creeping out my men."

Ed's grin widened until it looked somewhat feral.

Ross raised an eyebrow in disapproval, and helped Edward upright. She gestured to Smith to do the same. The trio hobbled over to the military cars and gently placed Ed on the backseat of the front one, and he was swiftly joined by Maria and another anonymous soldier.

"Where're we goin'?" Ed asked, stifling a yawn.

"Train station. We're going to Central." Maria answered as she started the car.

"Oh," Ed drawled, finding it harder and harder every moment not to fall asleep. He was comfier in the warm, padded back seat of the military automobile than he had been for months, and his lack of sleep was really beginning to catch up to him.

He was vaguely aware of Ross telling him something else, but Ed just didn't have the energy to listen, and he slipped into the light.

* * *

><p>"Stop pacing, Colonel."<p>

Roy paused mid-stride, glanced at Hawkeye, and continued the nervous gesture.

"I said stop, Colonel." Riza's voice went as cold as the barrel of her gun now resting against Roy's temple.

Roy ducked out of the way of the hand gun and dumped himself behind his desk, leaning his elbows on the hard pine surface, and dropping his head into his hands. He was overjoyed that his youngest subordinate was alive (and hopefully well), but that didn't ease his unease when it came to playing the waiting game. He would just have to wait another two days. Just two days. He could survive that, couldn't he?

He was suddenly reminded of Alphonse. His reaction after Roy had called him saying his brother had been found alive was purely heart-warming. The boy had burst into tears on the other line and had repeatedly thanked the Colonel, and had even offered to get the Colonel a gift, an offer Roy had declined, saying Edward alive and well was enough of a gift. Alphonse had agreed profusely, before hanging up after saying something about telling Winry.

Roy smiled slightly. The boy was such a stark contradiction to his brother personality-wise, you would have difficultly believing they were brothers if you didn't see them standing next to each other face-to-face. Fullmetal looked almost identical to his father, while Alphonse looked almost identical to his mother - yet they somehow managed to look almost identical to each other at the same time. It made Roy's head spin just thinking about it.

But Hughes said Ross had sounded quite worried or tense on the phone - her voice was strained slightly, despite the obvious happy relief. Roy thought this was rather curious, and then his mind wandered back to something Fuery had said earlier... 'She said he's in pretty bad shape'... What did that mean? Was Fullmetal injured, missing his automail with a broken limb? That could count as pretty bad shape, but it was quite normal for Fullmetal after a mission. Maybe he was on the brink of death. But surely if that was the case, Fuery would have sounded more worried than exultant...

Roy gave up figuring it out. Fullmetal was alive, and Fullmetal was (relatively) safe. That was all that mattered.

* * *

><p>"Get her, Sally! She's trying to jump out of the window again!"<p>

"I'm not jumping, silly. I'm flying."

"Take her arm! I'll get her le- _Ow!_ Be careful, Sally, she bites!"

"I'm on it, Liz."

"If you don't let go, the owls will peck you, you know."

"What owls?"

"Oh! I didn't realise you'd be here, Nathan!"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Come and help - the girl's trying to 'fly' again."

"I keep telling you - I'm not _trying_ to fly. I _am_ flying. Look, the thestral's waiting for me outside."

"Nathan! I need your help! She bit Liz, and I can't hold her down on my own!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming..."

"_Silly __muggles._"

* * *

><p><strong>First Luna appearance! Unfortunately she won't be appearing for another two chapters or so... Sorry! T.T<strong>

**I finished this last night, but I didn't have time to upload it, so I have to upload it now before school... XD**


	4. Three: Roy Mustang

**It seems I forgot to mention this story is a bit AU ^_^;; Here's the background:**

**-Al got his body back when he was fifteen after the fight with Father, and Ed lost his arm again instead of his alchemy.**

**-This story is set roughly two years after the ending of the manga. Ed is eighteen, Al is seventeen, in his seventeen-year-old body.**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three - Roy Mustang<strong>

_Two days later_

_Slam._ "Roy!"

Make that the third time this week.

"Yes, Hughes?" Roy sighed. There were so many distractions lately, and time was taking its toll on his ever-growing stack of paperwork.

Alas, it looked like the steady stream of distractions wasn't going to slow down anytime soon, so Roy set aside his yet-to-be uncapped pen and turned his full attention to the man leaning against his doorframe, breathing heavily.

Roy guessed it must be something of the utmost importance for Hughes to have come running all the way to his office himself instead of sending someone else like he usually did.

"It's Edward!" Hughes gasped, still fighting to regain his breath.

Roy sat up slightly straighter. "What about Fullmetal?"

Hughes was grinning like a maniac - always a good sign. "He's here, Roy!"

Roy's serious façade cracked to let in a warm smile. "Where I he?" he asked excitedly, reminding himself of Alphonse.

"The lobby." If Roy didn't know better, he would have sworn Hughes was _giggling_.

Roy smirked, his eyes ablaze. "I'll be right there." With that, he stood up and strode out of his office, not bothering to tidy his desk, tuck in Havoc's stray chair or close the door behind him. He even forgot to salute to Brigadier General Brooks as she passed by. She just chuckled exasperatedly, knowing nothing could stop him when he was like this.

Apparently, Roy's good mood was contagious, because every officer, soldier or grunt he happened to pass in the corridor left with a smile a few inches wider than the one they had worn before. Within the five minutes it took Roy to rush to the front lobby, the entire building was ablaze with new of Edward's return.

"I presume you're here to see Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric, sir?" the woman at the desk asked him with a wry smile.

"Yes." Roy smiled back.

"He's waiting in Room 101. We had to shift him out of the public eye. I'm sure you can understand, sir."

"I can indeed," he glanced at her nametag, "Thorpe."

She smiled, gesturing down a well-lit, stark white corridor that he assumed led the way to Room 101.

Roy nodded his thanks before briskly turning around, his military cape swirling in the wake of his graceful strides.

He stopped abruptly in front of a plain wooden door. The only thing that made this door particularly special was the '_101_' engraved on the front just below Roy's eye level. He gulped - what if Fullmetal's condition was really and truly _terrible_? What if he hated and blamed Roy for not getting away from the grenade himself? What if-

Roy slammed the door open.

At first, Roy thought it was the sudden explosion of sound that destroyed all evidence of a brain cell in his head. When he looked closer, however, he realised his mind had barely even registered the sound.

He was- well, there wasn't a word for it. Gob-smacked? Overjoyed? Terrified? All seemed suitable.

"F... _Fullmetal?_"

Edward was sitting hunched over on a sterilized chair. He seemed to be wearing nothing but his boxers, and there was a thick, white cotton sheet enveloping him that Roy was sure he'd stolen from the hospital wing. His hair was let down and hung partially over his face, and reached somewhere near his waist. His cheeks were sunken and he seemed to be nothing but skin and bone. Skin and bone and _scars_.

"My god... What on earth _happened_ to you?" Roy whispered.

Ed grinned weakly. "Some bad shit."

Roy's face paled further at the gravelly voice falling limply out of Edward's mouth.

Ed scrunched up his face. "Don't look at me like that, bastard."

Roy breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth twice, partially regaining some of his senses. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alive, I guess. Does that count?"

Ed smirked at the Colonel's clear exasperation. Oh how he had _missed_ this.

Roy let out a shaky laugh, daring to step closer to the shivering figure. "Have you been to the hospital?"

Ed scowled. "... Don' wanna."

"Fullmetal." Roy switched to stern mode, and glared at Edward, his voice harsh.

"But it doesn't even hurt that mu-_Ow!_" Ed began to protest, but was cut off by a dog-like yelp as Roy picked him up and began to drag him across the floor by his left arm.

"You're coming to the hospital with me. _Now_."

"_Ow!_ Okay, okay, I'm coming!" Ed yelled, and Roy let go. "I fuckin' _hate_ you," Ed grumbled under his breath as he wrapped the sheet tighter around himself.

Roy smirked. "Glad to know your spirit hasn't been dampened by your latest 'adventure', Fullmetal."

"... Shut up."

Roy chuckled in front of him, and Ed couldn't help but show a small smirk of his own.

* * *

><p>"<em>Holy mother of crap!<em>" the nurse shrieked as soon as she saw Ed standing in front of her. By the look on her face, Roy guessed she'd neither heard of Edward's return _or_ his physical condition. To be honest, Roy hadn't even seen the worst of Fullmetal's condition himself yet - Ed had been all wrapped up in that sheet, from neck to knee.

That's why Roy had to physically restrain himself from gagging when the nurse brusquely tugged the sheet off him.

The scars, the slashes, the wounds, the bullet-holes... the half-healed broken bones. The missing flesh. The infected skin. The slowly rotting left eye.

It was all too much, even for Roy.

So it was no wonder the nurse turned a ghastly shade of white and her hands were shaking so much she could barely help Ed onto the bed.

"Here," Roy rasped, his voice suddenly lost among his jumbled thoughts. "I'll help."

He half-lifted Ed onto the clean hospital bed, earning him an irritated '_I can do it myself, bastard' _and a weak kick in the shin.

He took the needle as the nurse's shaking hands prevented her from preparing it, and quickly attached the IV. He may not have been a trained doctor, but he had been taught this much before Ishbal, at least.

Ed growled. "I hate this thing."

Roy pursed his lips. "I know, Fullmetal, but it's necessary." Roy looked Ed up and down, before asking wearily, "How long has it been since you last ate something?"

Ed shrugged.

"That's not very helpful."

Ed rolled his eyes. "I dunno - a day or two. Maybe three."

Roy's eyes widened. "How often have you been eating for the past nine months?" he breathed.

"Every three days," Ed stated nonchalantly.

"God, Fullmetal." Roy almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. "I'll get you as much food as I can get my hands on, and then you're going to explain to me exactly how you ended up in that state," Roy said firmly. It wasn't a question.

Ed sighed. "Sure, sure. Whatever. Just get me some food." He grinned.

It was Roy's turn to roll his eyes. "_Don't_ try to run away while I'm gone, Fullmetal."

Ed chuckled. "Can't be bothered, anyway."

Roy sighed, and Ed laughed a bit louder as the Colonel almost tripped over a stray upturned chair on his way out.

* * *

><p>"Where's the sedative?"<p>

"Liz, I _need_ that sedative!"

"Why? I'm not one really one for fighting..."

"Why do you need it? She seems docile enough, Nathan."

"She's refusing to take her medicine."

"_Again?_"

"Yes, again! I need to knock her out so I can make her swallow them."

"All right, all right, Sally. I'm sure it was around here somewhere..."

"... I _am_ here, you know..."

"Hurry up!"

"I know, I know! I swear I put it in the second drawer, but I think Mandy took it. Damn."

"You could always just use 'accio'."

"_What?_"

"'Accio', silly. It's a spell used to find things."

"... Hurry, up, Liz. I think she's getting worse."

* * *

><p>"Sho," Ed asked as he stuffed as much of the ready-made sandwich as he could into his mouth, "Whachu wanna know?"<p>

"Don't talk with your mouth full," the nurse commented.

Ed stuck his crumb- and bacon-covered tongue out at her. She turned away in disgust.

"Details, Fullmetal. _Exactly_ how you ended up with all those injuries, and why you weigh five stone nine."

At Ed's incredulous expression, Roy admitted, "Well, not the gory details."

Ed swallowed the lump of cold bacon sandwich. "Well, my eye," Ed gestured to the gauze wrapped haphazardly around his head (Roy had never been that good at bandaging wounds), "was from some knife or something that he stuck there-"

"He?"

"Yes, 'he'," Ed deadpanned, mildly irritated. "The Madman."

"Who's the 'Madman'?" Roy asked, an uncomfortable sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Uh... That's a hard question to answer."

"Try your best."

Ed groaned like a six-year-old. "Well, he's the one who kidnapped me after-"

"_Kidnapped?_" Roy's tone was rising in pitch with every interruption.

Ed gave him a slightly odd, guilty look. "Uh, yeah. I guess you weren't told about that." Ed shifted his gaze somewhere else, suddenly interested in the pristine white cabinets lining the walls.

Roy put his face in his hands. "All right," he sighed. "Explain from the _beginning_."

* * *

><p>"... No way."<p>

Ed sniggered. "Is everybody going to react like this? 'Cause if they are, I'm gonna have a damn good time freaking everybody out."

"This isn't a laughing matter, Fullmetal!" Roy shouted, though his subordinate seemed unaffected.

"Yeah, yeah. That's what Ross said, too. But seriously, can no one just _move on_? It's in the past - I'm here now, and I'm alive and recovering."

Roy gritted his teeth. "That man must be _tracked down_ and _arrested_, Fullmetal, if he isn't _executed_."

Ed contemplated this. "I guess so. But can that wait until I'm well enough to fight him, at least? I know I'd get a real kick out of punching that crazy face of his in."

Roy sighed again. This was really, annoyingly similar to dealing with Elysia when Hughes was away. "I suppose so. But I can only put it off for so long, Fullmetal, so you'd better get healthy quick."

Ed smirked. "What do you take me for, Colonel?"

At that moment, there was a deafening crash, and before either of the military men could even so much as blink, there was a strong but slender hand gripping the front of Edward's hospital gown, and there were two sea-blue eyes sobbing into his shoulder. "You _idiot!_" a feminine voice screamed into the fabric.

"W-Winry?" Ed asked dumbly.

"Ed, you bloody _idiot!_ Were you _really_ stupid enough to first run _straight into a bomb_ and then get yourself _kidnapped _and _tortured?_"

The devastated expression on Winry's crying face silenced any words that might have possibly come from Ed's mouth.

"Please tell me it isn't true," she whispered.

Ed's face mirrored Winry's as he pulled her into a bony hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered back, barely audible over the heart monitor.

"_You idiot_," Winry sobbed into his back, crying even more when her hands met the bumps of his spine instead of the strong muscles she had grown accustomed to.

Winry suddenly drew back, gripping Ed tightly by the upper arms, seemingly inspecting every inch of him, before her eyes settled on his automail. "You'll need a completely new arm and leg, by the looks of it," she murmured quietly, trying and failing rather miserably to regain her composure.

Ed looked down. "Huh."

There was a short pause.

"Your automail is really the best, Winry," Ed mumbled, a small smile on his face. "It's still working, even in this state." He laughed slightly, though it did nothing to help lift the heavy atmosphere in the small, white room.

Winry smiled too. She whispered, "Of course. Why would you expect anything less?"

Roy felt incredibly uncomfortable. After a moment, he cleared his throat quietly, drawing the attention of the two best friends still currently in the room. He'd noticed the snobby nurse stomp out the door in a huff as soon as Winry had come barging in earlier. "How long will it take to make a new arm and leg, Miss Rockbell?" Roy asked politely.

Winry scrunched her nose in concentration. "Well... That's a simple question with a complicated answer, Mr. Mustang. I'd say three days for the new arm and leg, usually, but with Ed's... _slighter_ frame, he's going to need a whole new set, like nothing I've ever made before. I've never had to make automail for someone so _thin_ before," she laughed weakly. "So, I'd say a week for the actual arm and leg. Then... well, I'm going to have to adjust the ports on his shoulder and thigh, too."

Ed winced.

"The surgery will take a day, and the recovery afterwards will take a couple of weeks. You see, Mr. Mustang, his body at the moment is too weak to support the old ports, and you can see here," Winry tugged down the gown to reveal Ed's right shoulder, "that his mass has shrunk, and the automail ports are currently far too large for his frame. The skin is being pulled and stretched too much, and I'm surprised the skin hasn't been torn or the automail yanked off by its own weight." Her business face softened slightly. "It must hurt a lot."

Ed grinned meekly. "Not really, actually. My nervous system's almost completely shut down. I can hardly feel a thing," he chuckled slightly.

Winry blinked. "In which case, it's going to be a bit of a problem, Mr. Mustang, because he'll need his nerves in perfect working order before I can adjust the ports, otherwise he won't be able to move the limbs properly."

Roy nodded. "So how long are we looking at altogether?"

"I'd say... roughly three weeks, plus however long it takes for his nerves to work again."

Roy nodded again, grimly. "I'll make sure Fuhrer Grumman is aware. Thank you for your help, Miss Rockbell."

Winry shook her head. "Oh no, Mr. Mustang. I'm simply performing my duty as a good automail mechanic." She giggled.

Roy smiled warmly at her as she left. "I'm sure I can find you a place to stay while you're here, Miss Rockbell."

Winry began to object, but Roy cut her off. "It's the least I can do."

Winry gave up and grinned back at Roy before shutting the door quietly behind her.

Ed let out a deep breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "She looks so... _different_."

Roy sighed, and smiled. "She _is_ different."

Ed smiled. "I was stupid for thinking she'd be the same."

* * *

><p>"Your nervous system?" The doctor peered doubtingly over the rim of his golden spectacles. He didn't have to voice his thoughts out loud: <em>Out of all your injuries, you're most concerned about when your nerves will be working again?<em> "Forgive me for my rudeness, Mr. Elric, but most patients in your position would be grateful for the lack of pain, if they were even conscious at all."

Ed grinned dangerously. "I'm not most patients."

The doctor cleared his throat uncomfortably before glancing back down at Ed's chart held in his large hand. "Well, I'd say it's probably permanent. A small amount of feeling might return as the nerve endings heal, but it's likely you'll be this way for the rest of your life."

"What about the nerve ending thingies?" Ed asked eagerly.

The doctor frowned. "I hope you understand I'm not making any promises, Mr. Elric. To be blunt, there's only a ten percent chance of any feeling returning at all."

"But that's still ten percent, right? Is there any way to make it bigger?"

The doctor sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You're going to need quite a bit of surgery, Mr. Elric, so the constant use of anesthetic will probably lower the chances..."

"So use a lower dosage."

The doctor blinked and looked at Ed as if he was crazy. "Pardon?"

Ed resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I said _use a lower dosage_," Ed deadpanned, as if talking to a three-year-old.

"I know what you said, Mr. Elric," the doctor said rather indignantly. "I was just unsure whether you understood the true meaning of what you were saying."

Ed snorted. "I'm not an idiot, doctor. When I say things, I mean them."

"If you wish to have a lower dose of anesthetic during your surgeries in order for your nerves to heal properly, then that is possible - we will, however, need your signature." The doctor shuffled through a few papers behind Ed's chart, before tugging one off the clipboard and handing it to Ed with a blue biro from his white pocket. "Sign here and here, please," he said quietly, pointing at the two quite clear dotted lines in the middle and at the end of the slightly crumpled paper.

Ed scribbled two almost illegible signatures down (Roy noted with exasperation that they looked completely different) before shoving the paper back under the doctor's nose. "Here."

The doctor blinked, squinting at the two signatures - one resembling 'E. Elric' and the one below it looking suspiciously like 'Look up there' - before sighing and returning the form to where it was before. "I will alert the surgeon."

"When's the surgery?" Roy spoke up suddenly, and the deep baritone attracted the attention of the two other occupants of the room.

"The first surgery, the one to disinfect and seal up Mr. Elric's right side, will be scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. There will be another surgery the next morning for his left eye, and another on Thursday for his right leg."

Roy nodded. "That okay?" he muttered to Ed.

"Doesn' matter much, really. S'long as I get out of here as fast as possible," Ed mumbled back.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor smiled for the first time since arriving through the sterile door. "I am just doing my job, Mr. Mustang."

The white-clad doctor shuffled out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. Ed and Roy heard him greet a few colleagues quite loudly as he passed them.

Roy sighed and leant down to pick something up from beneath Ed's bed. He emerged with a long white pole ("_What the _hell_ is that doing under my bed?"_), and poked the door with it until it closed.

"What was the point in that, you lazy arse?"

"I'll have you done in for insubordination, Fullmetal, if you don't shut up."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

Ed laughed. "No, seriously - you _wouldn't_. You like me too much, Colonel Bastard."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Finish your food."

* * *

><p><strong>There. Momo got herself an OC. :P (She also got herself quoted by the anonymous nurse: '<em>Holy mother of crap!<em>')**


	5. Four: Family

**A bit of a long chappie, this one :3 I like this chapter - it's all familial love and angst and friendship. Yay~**

**NOTICE: I've edited the previous chapter slightly. I know no one's gonna be bothered to read it all again, so I'll write a quick summary of it here: Basically, Ed's numbness is permanent. Unless he can find some sort of miracle cure. So his automail replacement is also postponed indefinitely, since the nerves have to work properly for Ed to be able to move the automail.**

**Thank you to _Laora_ for pointing that out~**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four - Family<strong>

"You know, Fullmetal, I can't keep you all to myself for very long. Hawkeye and the others will want to see you."

Ed grimaced, flopping back against his pillow. "I know. I just don't wanna have to explain it all _all __over __again_."

Roy chuckled darkly. "You're not as much of a genius as they say you are if you thought you were going to be able to get away with only explaining yourself twice."

Ed shot Roy a murderous glare, but said nothing.

There was a long, comfortable silence, and Roy caught himself almost nodding off in the surprisingly comfortable chair more than once.

Ed stirred restlessly. "Have you told Al?" he murmured quietly, as if almost afraid of the answer. For what reason, Roy couldn't fathom.

"_I_ haven't told Al. But I am aware he's been alerted. He left from Xing as soon as we called him two days ago, so he should be arriving in Central in a day or two."

Ed let out a breath. "That's good," he whispered.

Roy smirked. "I wouldn't like to be in your shoes, Fullmetal. He's going to have a real go at you for just upping and leaving like that, you know."

Ed groaned, his pale face contorting into a well-worn grimace. "I know," he moaned.

To be honest, despite his outward dread, he would give just about anything to be with his brother right now. As close as he was to Winry, and as much of a family he had in the military, Al was his brother. Al was a constant in his sporadic life, and Ed would be eternally grateful for that. Al was always there to pick up the pieces and clean up the mess, because Al was his brother and Al was his father and Al was his son. Al was _Al_, and Ed loved him more than he could ever love anyone else.

Ed could faintly hear a phone ringing from a few doors down, and he childishly wondered why _he_ didn't have a phone in _his_ room.

There was a harsh knock on the wooden door, and Ed snapped out of his daze. "Yeah?" he grunted.

There was a moment of hesitation before the door swiftly opened - a moment too short to mean much, but a moment all the same.

Ed, who had been previously staring at the dazzlingly white door was met with hard, piercing brown eyes, and he immediately shrunk away. He quietly mouthed, "Oh no."

Riza's right arm shot up, and she coked the pistol. "Edward. _Where. __Have. __You. __Been?_"

Ed grimaced, struggling rather pathetically to hide the almost comical bandage over his left eye. "Uh... Long story."

"Do I look like I mind?" Hawkeye shot back, the gun never wavering. Her voice was a little too high, her stance a little too stiff. If Ed didn't know better, he'd say she was _scared_.

Then again, Ed _didn__'__t_ know better. The thought shot unbidden into his frame of thought, and he cringed away from it.

"Sit down," Roy ordered off-handedly. "It really is a long explanation."

* * *

><p>Hawkeye was silent for what must have been five minutes. Ed and Roy amiably endured what felt like the longest five minutes of their lives, Ed contenting himself with inking various transmutation circles into his bed sheets with the doctor's pen.<p>

"... I see." Hawkeye's voice wasn't cold, and Ed could've sworn she was shaking. If even the bulletproof Riza Hawkeye had been reduced to a shivering lump, then what was Ed to do with Havoc, and Breda, and goddamn _Fuery?_

"Sorry," Ed whispered, his voice breaking, though his face was carefully blank. "I was a fucking idiot, and now I'm burdening you lot, wasting medicine and making half the nurses pass out."

Roy sniggered humourlessly. "Are you sure that isn't because of your impeccable charm, Fullmetal?"

Ed just couldn't bring himself to be mad at Mustang anymore. He was suddenly extremely depressed, and he had no idea why. Was it a side-effect of the antibiotics he was taking? "Thanks. Thanks so much, Mustang." He grimaced.

"_Sorry?_"

The hoarse whisper cut through the air like a knife, and Ed's breath caught in his bandaged throat.

"_Sorry?_ How can you be _sorry_, Edward? How can you say that like it's _your __fault?_" Hawkeye glared at him, a desperate anger leaking into her carefully guarded eyes, and Ed recoiled at the raw intensity of the brilliant coppery-brown irises. The pupils seemed to swallow him into their depths, and Ed suddenly found himself battling furiously against tears.

Ed bit into his lip hard in a last attempt to salvage as much of his little pride as he could. But somehow, those brown eyes just brought everything out of him, good or bad - they always had done in the past, and now was no different.

A single droplet of warm water brushed his right cheek in an embrace, and Ed choked on a half-sob. "Because it _is_ my fault, dammit!" The yell tore from his rough throat laced with sorrow he'd never had the time to show, and before he knew it tears were running down both cheeks, apparently oblivious to both the empty eye socket and Ed's incessant attempts to get them to _go __the __fuck __away_. He was wiping furiously at his face with both arms, ignoring the small spark of electricity when a tear dripped onto an exposed wire in his automail.

Roy stared. And stared. And _stared_. Fullmetal had _never_ cried. _Ever_. And even if he had, he'd never even _dreamt_ of crying in front of the man he most hated and the woman he most respected. Because Fullmetal just _didn__'__t __do __that_.

Yet here he was, in that cheap hospital bed, curled up in a ball, crying his guts up. _Almost __literally_, Roy noted with a note of anxiety as Ed began to cough raggedly, barely having the time to breathe.

A nurse burst through the door, alerted by the worrying noise. "Wha-"

"_Get __the __fuck __OUT!_" Ed screamed, the tortured sound ripping through their oxygen supply like a blunt dagger. The nurse let out a terrified sob herself before slamming the door shut and sprinting back down the direction she'd come from.

Roy opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his tongue when he received a dark venomous glare form Hawkeye. She seemed on the brink of tears herself, but she was valiantly holding it in, too concerned for Ed's current state of mind to worry about hers. _As __is __the __way __of __the __military_, Roy thought crudely, a rather ugly grimace etching frown lines into his not-so-young face.

Riza gently wrapped her shaking arms around Ed's hideously tiny form, now rocking backwards and forwards, and Ed flinched away from the contact, whimpering pathetically.

"Shhh... It's okay," Riza whispered, though Roy reckoned it would probably have been much more effective if she hadn't sobbed through the third syllable.

Ed sniffed, his trembling finally calming down, and he slowed down the rocking. He leaned into Hawkeye's embrace, burying his bandaged face into her collarbone, and tentatively wrapped his weak arms around her back. After a few seconds, he slumped into defeat, sighing heavily into Hawkeye's now tear-stained jacket.

Ed sniffed again, drawing back out of the hug, and futilely wiped his eye on his flesh arm. "Thank you," he mumbled, staring intently at the crumpled cotton sheets.

Hawkeye smiled warmly, her rare motherly instincts showing through.

Ed sat sprawled on the bed for another five or ten minutes, staring at various things around the room: his bed, the window, the door, his bed. There wasn't much else, really. Apart from the two things he was trying desperately to ignore as his actions finally dawned on him.

Ed lowered his head. "'M never gonna live this down, 'm I?" he gargled, clearly embarrassed now that the episode had passed.

Roy chuckled. "Don't worry, Fullmetal. I won't mention it to anybody." He paused. "Probably."

"Colonel," Hawkeye warned, somehow still managing to look incredibly threatening even with slightly puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks.

Ed laughed at the absurdly out-of-place situation, his almost permanent guard now finally dropped. "This is just all so fucked up."

Roy sighed in melancholy. "Unfortunately, I think I have to agree."

"Stop being so negative," Hawkeye scolded, sounding much more like a strict mother than a colleague or subordinate.

"Yes, ma'am," Ed and Roy chorused in sarcasm.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Hawkeye," Ed mumbled from behind his rather thick book.<p>

"Mmm?" she hummed from behind her own.

"When're Havoc and everyone coming to see me? I mean, it's been hours."

Hawkeye shifted almost imperceptibly, though Ed's keen eye caught it. "They haven't been told."

Ed's single golden eye widened in sheer shock. "_What?_"

"The Colonel thought it would be best to not alert them to your arrival until you're... more stable."

Ed knew she meant that in more ways than one. He sighed mournfully. "Right."

Ed glared with a fierce burning hatred at the looming empty chair to the left of his bedside, the one recently vacated by said Colonel. Apparently he'd gotten hungry and had gone to grab a snack form the cafeteria, but he'd been gone half an hour and hadn't come back.

"He should be back soon," Riza stated in answer to the unspoken question.

"Mm." Ed couldn't bring himself to form a proper response. These wacky mood swings were really staring to bug him - normal to euphoric to hysterical to suicidal to completely out of it, all within the space of a few hours. What the _fuck _was wrong with him?

Ed made a split-second decision. He was alone with Riza, someone he knew he could trust with a secret, and by the looks of things the Colonel (or any unfortunate nurse) wasn't going to barge in anytime soon. He took the risk.

"Hawkeye..."

"Mm?"

"Are mood swings supposed to be a side-effect of the medicine or something?"

Riza blinked, looking up from her book, '_Jane __Eyre_', and stared curiously at the young man in front of her. "No," she said softly but slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tensed.

"Uh-oh."

* * *

><p>As Roy and Riza were marching briskly down the bustling corridor the next day, Riza let her brain mull over what Edward had said the previous day.<p>

"_Why are you asking, Edward?" Riza asked, the tenseness obvious in her hard features._

"_You... __You __saw __what __just __happened. __And __now __I __feel __fine.__" __Ed __looked __down __at __the __crumpled __linen, __fumbling __absently __with __his __automail __in __his __lap.__ "__I __don__'__t...__" __Ed __whispered,__ "__I __don__'__t __think __it__'__s _normal_.__"_

_Riza__'__s __eyes __widened.__ "__What __are __you __saying?__" __she __asked __breathlessly, __her __head __screaming _pleasedon'-

"_I think I'm going insane."_

Riza's frown deepened. 'Insane' might have been an exaggeration, but it was plainly obvious that Edward was severely shaken up from the incident. Well, who could blame him, really?

"Maybe you should take the day off, Lieutenant." Roy's deep voice cut through her train of thought like a diamond dagger, and her step faltered slightly as she was brought back into reality. "You look ill."

"I'm fine, sir," she said, relieved that her voice hadn't wavered.

Roy raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing more on the subject. "I received a call from Alphonse this morning."

"What about, sir?" Riza inquired.

"He's just crossed the Xing-Amestris border. That was two hours ago, so I'd be willing to bet he's near Resembool by now."

Riza showed a small, rare smile. "That's good to know, Colonel."

Roy smiled broadly. "Yeah." _Edward __will __be __overjoyed._

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang's office was, at first glance, completely normal on that morning. Jean Havoc and Heymans Breda were playing poker (Breda was winning, as usual) and Kain Fuery was bustling around trying to find someone's file that he was sure Havoc had hidden just to annoy him. Vato Falman was busy memorizing the three-hundred and fifty-sixth page in Roy's encyclopedia. Riza Hawkeye had her gun aimed at her superior's head, and Roy Mustang himself was hurriedly busying himself with paperwork.<p>

However, if you looked closer, you'd see the glint of something warm in Riza Hawkeye's eyes, and her gun seemed to be aimed more at the air above the Colonel's head than anything else; Kain Fuery's hands were trembling with ecstasy, and there was an unshakable grin plastered onto his face, as there had been for the past day. Roy Mustang himself, meanwhile, actually hadn't even noticed the metal killing machine to his left, and was doing the paperwork _willingly_.

Why? Because one certain subordinate was, at the moment, resting peacefully in the infirmary for the first time in nine months.

Too bad no one noticed the couple's change in demeanor, or they would've been over the moon too.

"Aww!" A loud groan of defeat swept across the crowded room, and everyone turned to see Breda grinning evilly and Havoc demanding a rematch.

Fuery couldn't take it anymore. He burst out in raucous laughter, doubling over and dropping the file he had finally found on the carpeted floor.

Everyone but Roy and Riza stared as if he was out of his mind. After all, Fuery had always been more docile than noisy, and he'd certainly never broken down in tears of laughter while in the office before.

"Uh... Are you okay?" Havoc asked dumbly.

"I'm fine," Fuery managed to get out in between gasps for air and hysterical laughter.

It took a full five minutes for him to calm down completely. "S-Sorry," he stammered, still grinning like a kid with a lollipop.

"Don't apologise, Fuery." Roy sent him a knowing smile, causing the rest of the room to almost tear their hair out in confusion and frustration at the secret obviously being kept.

"I think you two have wound up everyone else sufficiently, Colonel, Fuery," Hawkeye sighed. "It's time everyone should know."

"Should know _what?_" Havoc was the first to snap.

Hawkeye sighed irritably again when Roy just smirked. "That Edward is alive."

There was stunned silence for a few seconds as the information sank in. Edward was alive. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, MIA for the past nine months, was _alive_.

There was a sudden outburst of elated cheer and a few chaotic high fives were thrown around the room.

"Do you know where he is?" Breda asked.

Riza smiled. "The infirmary."

Havoc's jaw dropped. "Well, excuse me, sir!" And with that, he leapt out of his wooden chair and skidded towards the door, flung it open and sprinted towards the nearest staircase.

Roy chuckled. "It's nice to be happy sometimes."

"You do realise how depressing that sentence sounds, don't you, Colonel?" Riza smirked.

Roy smiled sourly at her. "Shut up, Hawkeye."

* * *

><p><em>I <em>_wonder __what __I__'__m __going __to __eat __today_, Ed thought as he gazed distantly out of the window of his quiet hospital room. _Maybe... __cheese __on __toast. __Or __maybe __I __could __get __the __chefs __to __be __nice __and __cook __me __something __proper... __Or __I __could __beg __Winry __to __make __me __an __apple __pie. __Or __possibly __I __could __have-_

"_Chief!_" a deafening yell from the other side of the door was all the warning Ed got before said door almost lost its hinges in welcome of the new visitor.

"H-Havoc?" Ed stuttered in shock. As far as he knew, the rest of the team hadn't been told.

Havoc stood there in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, panting for a good few seconds before he gathered enough breath to answer. "You're alive!" he whispered breathlessly, a striking contrast to the wild shout a few seconds ago.

"Uh... yeah." Ed, unable to think of anything else to say, settled for a timid wave of his flesh hand.

Havoc took in the bandages, the brown leather eye patch (which Ed hated with a passion, claiming it clashed with the red of his coat) and the trashed automail, before exclaiming, "Dear god. What the _hell_ happened?"

Ed grinned. "Trouble."

Havoc sighed in sudden exhaustion, slumping into a bedside chair. "Right. You know, you really need to stop this whole 'let's go get myself almost killed again' thing you have going on."

Ed laughed. "I just can't help it, Havoc," he said dramatically.

Havoc grinned. "Well, you seem fine to me. That's good enough."

Ed grinned dangerously.

"By the way, Chief," Havoc asked casually, "What's up with your voice? It's really deep. Almost like the Colonel's."

Ed grimaced. "Yeah." He gestured to a bullet wound scar on the front of his neck, and Havoc paled slightly.

"Oh."

There was a brief pause.

"It didn't... y'know... _kill_ you?"

Ed shrugged. "Nah. Doctor said it somehow managed to miss all the vital veins and arteries. Instead it went straight through my vocal chords. Hence the voice."

"Ohhh." Havoc grinned bemusedly. "That's just weird."

"Yup." Ed blinked as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, do the others know?"

"Know what?" Havoc replied as he tried to light a cigarette, despite the 'No smoking' sign tacked to the wall behind him.

"About me being alive and all."

Havoc grinned. "'Course they do. Colonel told all of us."

Ed grimaced. "So I guess I can be expecting more of these surprise visits, then, huh?"

Havoc laughed. "Looks that way, Chief."

* * *

><p><em>Two days later<em>

"Hello, Central Command, how can I help you?" the woman at the front desk asked, so bored she looked like she could fall asleep right then and there. She didn't even bother glancing up from her filing.

"Um, Alphonse Elric? Here to see Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric and Colonel Roy Mustang."

The woman's half-lidded eyes immediately opened wide, and her head snapped up to stare into warm, golden-brown pools. "Oh," she whispered. Then, without even asking for identification, she said, "Infirmary. Go right through."

Her eyes trailed after the seventeen-year-old as he left, smiling and giggling at something the girl next to him had said.

Hang on, there was someone with him?

The boy's dark golden hair and eyes might have been enough proof that he was, in fact, Alphonse Elric, but she had no idea who the small, black-haired girl walking beside him was.

The woman slapped her forehead. That girl better not be dangerous, or she would find herself without a job.

"So, Mr. Alphonse, why did you want me to come along again?" the thirteen-year-old asked.

"In case he needs your alkahestry, Mei. There are some things doctors can't do, after all." Al giggled.

Mei smiled broadly at the five foot nine teenager beside her. "I see."

They reached the hospital wing in less than two minutes, and again had to go through the (in Al's opinion, frankly embarrassing) routine of telling the man at the desk who he was and enduring the blatant staring as he made his way towards the necessary room.

Alphonse knocked politely, before opening the door and gasping at the sight of his long-lost brother. "Nii-san!"

Ed halted his conversation with Roy sitting beside him, and gaped at the figure behind the still half-closed door. "Al...?"

"_Nii-san!_" Al exclaimed, practically throwing himself at the boy on the bed. "Oh god, I'm so happy you're alive! You have no idea what it was like to think I'd never see you again!" Al laughed euphorically.

Ed laughed along, a single tear forming at the corner of his single eye. "Same, Al. Same." He just couldn't find any other words to say. Nothing could describe the pure, heartfelt joy he found pouring out of him, and he felt as if his heart was suddenly twice the size it had been before. Because Al was his other half, and he finally realised how empty he'd been without him.

The brothers stood (or in Ed's case, sat) embracing for another minute before a quite, amused cough from Ed's left shocked them out of it.

Roy smiled warmly at the boys he'd come to know as sons, and for the first time in quite a while, both smiled back.

"I guess I should leave you two alone," Roy chuckled.

Al laughed embarrassedly, and Ed grinned, a fire burning in his eye that Roy hadn't seen since Ed had arrived three days ago.

Roy stepped out of the door an closed it behind him, only to bump into a small Xingese girl. "Oh, hello," he said awkwardly.

"Hello, Mr. Mustang," she said, smiling. "I'm Mei Chang, eighteenth princess of Xing. I'm Mr. Alphonse's girlfriend."

Roy almost screamed. He'd had next to no contact with the younger Elric since he'd left for Xing eight months ago, supposedly to obtain Emperor Ling's help in finding his brother. Apparently, though, he'd found more than just his brother there.

"O-oh. Nice to meet you, Miss Chang." Mei bowed, and Roy followed suit.

In the silence of the corridor, the two could vaguely make out stories told by Alphonse to his brother, recounting various events that had happened while Ed was MIA. One included a dragon, another Mei and one quite strange one seemed to be about broken roofs, wrenches and hospitalisation. Roy shuddered at the thought of what happened.

"I think we should leave them be, Mr. Mustang," Mei whispered.

Roy nodded. "I think so too."

There was a short pause of consideration.

"Do you like tea?"

* * *

><p><strong>There! :D How was it? X3<strong>


	6. Five: An Inkling

**I'm so sorry for the long wait! I was very busy, and then it was Christmas, and... yeah, I'm just making excuses. =_=; (In case any of you are interested, it's been forty-one days since I updated this.)**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five - An Inkling<strong>

"Ugh."

Al groggily turned his head towards his brother. "What's it, nii-san?" he slurred, his voice still thick from sleep.

"It's Thursday," Ed growled, as if that would explain everything.

"I don't remember you ever hating Thursdays before."

Ed whacked Al weakly around the head. "I don't hate Thursdays, Al. I hate _today_, because I have another surgery today."  
>Al blinked. "Oh. What for?"<p>

"My leg," Ed grumbled.

Al winced, having seen all of his brother's injuries yesterday after he practically forced the hospital gown off him to inspect them. "Oh."

Ed sighed. "Yeah. The doctor said that even if they manage to re-set the bone into the correct position, I'm probably going to be slightly crippled for life."

Al chuckled. "No more spars, then?"

Ed grinned wryly. "Looks like it." A sudden, rather worrying thought occurred to him. "What about the military?"

Al looked at Ed in confusion.

Ed rolled his single eye. "I can't be in the military if I can't fight, Al."

Al's eyes widened in realisation. "You'll have to retire, nii-san."

Ed scrunched up his face. "I don't _want_ to retire! I'm only eighteen, for fuck's sake."

Al smiled warmly, a small giggle escaping his lips. "That doesn't matter, nii-san. You'll still be famous for at least another decade, and your pension will definitely be enough to live off."

Ed sighed irritably. "I know, I know..." He turned his head to stare out of the closed window. It was raining. "Maybe I could get more automail," he mumbled absently.

"You would?" Al asked skeptically.

"Mm. It'd only be from the knee down, and if it means I can move without a walking stick..."

Al slouched back in the chair. "Well, you'd have to ask Winry about that one, nii-san. After all, she'd be the one doing the surgery."

Ed nodded slightly. "I guess." He paused, before putting his head in his mismatched hands and groaning. "I have a surgery today."  
>Al rolled his eyes in a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Yes, nii-san. Don't tell me you forgot already?" Al laughed.<p>

Ed sent a chilling glare his direction. "Shut up."

* * *

><p>"Well, we're all set, Mr. Elric. When you're ready."<p>

Ed sighed. "Just give me the damn anesthetic and start the damn surgery."

The doctor signaled to the other white-clad strangers, and one brought over a rather hefty needle filled with a clear goop Edward supposed was anesthetic.

They didn't bother numbing his leg first - he was a soldier, after all. Ed felt the pricking pain shoot up his right leg, before an almost burning coldness overcame the whole limb and he could barely feel a thing. Well, even less than he could before, that is.

Why the hell the doctors didn't just knock him out was a mystery to Ed. For some reason, they'd insisted on using local anesthetic for all his surgeries so far. _Maybe local anesthetic is cheaper or something_, he thought.

Ed was harshly shoved back into reality as he heard a sickening _crack_. He turned his head sideways on the bed in case he threw up, but he hadn't eaten anything all morning (doctor's orders) and he only dry retched.

It didn't help much when he dared a glance down and realised the painful sound came from his own leg.

There was quite a bit of tugging on the bones, and though Ed didn't feel any pain he could still _feel_ it, and it honestly made him feel so sick he thought he could never eat again. The doctors proceeded to stitch up the wound where the bone had been poking out, before setting the lower limb in splints. _Splints are probably cheaper than casts, too. Cheap-skate doctors._

The entire process had taken a mind-numbing forty-five minutes, and by the end Ed felt he would die of revulsion, boredom and irritation all at the same time.

"We're finished, Mr. Elric," a female doctor told him from behind her mask.

"Thank fucking god," he muttered under his breath.

The woman let out some sort of muffled noise, but Ed wasn't sure whether it was a quiet chuckle or a startled huff at his language.

He didn't really care, to be honest.

The doctors wheeled the bed through the hospital, the wheels screeching painfully against the linoleum flooring. They arrived at Ed's room (thankfully) without having to ascend or descend any staircases, so it didn't take very long.

Once Ed was comfortably back in his own room - apparently, Mustang had used his title to drive any other patients out of the room Ed was staying in - he let out a sigh of mixed relief and annoyance. The stitched-up wound on his leg was already beginning to itch, and he _really_ didn't want to think about the whole retirement thing. He hated the possibility of being known for being a coward and retiring early, or being stupid enough to get himself crippled and forced into retirement, but he didn't exactly revel in the idea of getting more automail, either. He sighed again - he'd talk to Winry about it and get her opinion on it. And Al's. And Mustang's. And Hawkeye's and Havoc's, too. He'd make a mental tally, and whichever side got the most votes he would go for - he detested the two possible outcomes equally, so he didn't care which one got chosen in the end.

"Oh!" There was a pleasantly surprised yelp from the other side of the door, and Ed's head snapped towards it. "You're here already, nii-san? Sorry, I thought it'd last at least an hour..." Al chuckled apologetically as he shuffled into the room, plopping into his nearby chair and offering Ed a chocolate bar from the vending machine down the hall. At Ed's questioning glance, he grinned. "Doctor said you need to replenish your sugar supply."

Ed's eyebrows raised, but he accepted the chocolate anyway. Ed had never been one to turn down food, after all.

"So," Al said while munching at his own chocolate bar, "how'd it go?"

"The surgery?" Ed asked, an irritated frown plastered on his face.

"Yeah."

Ed grimaced.

Al cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Not well?"

Ed shook his head. "It went fine."

Al's confusion grew. "Then why do you look so annoyed?"  
>"Because they used fucking local anesthetic!"<p>

Al's eyes widened momentarily, before he sighed. "I should really have a word with the doctors about that. That's the third time they've refused to use general anesthetic."

"You damn well better! Or I swear I'm gonna go crazy, hearing all those snaps and cracks and tears."

Al smiled in sympathy. He threw his wrapper at the bin, but it bounced off the edge, and he grudgingly got up and trailed over to the bin. He picked up the wrapper, but seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, and merely clenched his fist so tight the wrapper crinkled in objection. "It must hurt, nii-san."

"Nah, not so much. My nerves are messed up, remember?" Ed chuckled lightly.

Al slowly turned to face his brother, a pained smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not the surgery, nii-san."

Ed's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Al looked down, unable to meet Ed's gaze. "The torture. The _torture_, nii-san. Didn't it mess with your mind? Didn't it turn you crazy? I think that must've hurt even a _little_, nii-san." Al's voice was no more than a quiet whisper, a murmur in the sterile air - but to Ed it hit him like a fist to the face, and the breath was knocked out of him. _So Al was worried about my mental state._ Ed mentally kicked himself. _Mustang or Hawkeye must've told him about that breakdown. I shouldn't have been so careless_.

Ed didn't say anything - he didn't need to. Al and he were as close as you could get, and words often weren't needed to convey a message. This was one of those times, and Ed was thankful for it. It hurt too much to hear his own voice right now - it was just another painful reminder of the nine months of hazy agony.

The brothers were frozen in a haunting silence for what felt like an eternity. They both let out a breath of stressful relief as a nurse came bouncing through the door, asking if Ed wanted something to eat. Al politely declined for him - he knew when Ed was in no mood for eating, and now just happened to be one of those times. The nurse looked slightly taken aback - before the surgery, Ed had eaten anything - _anything _- he could get his bony hands on, and it must've seemed like a worrying one-eighty. Al quietly assured her that Ed was fine, but Ed could tell she didn't believe a word of it. Still, she left placidly enough, and Ed was satisfied.

"Thank you," Ed murmured as soon as she was out of earshot.

Al smiled in response, gently sitting down on the edge of Ed's bed rather than his usual seat.

Ed wanted to beat himself up. He had had the most insane mood swings ever since he'd arrived at the hospital, far worse than even when he was fourteen and an angsty teenager, and he was starting to become really rather worried. Though he'd never say it himself, he was starting to believe that maybe he _did_ have a screw loose, and what on _earth_ would happen if that turned out to be the case.

He shook the troubling thoughts of white rooms and straightjackets out of his head just in time for the one man he really _didn't_ want to see right now politely barge into the room. Ed grimaced at the sight of a familiar broad-framed figure in a blue uniform. "What do you want, Mustang?"

Mustang brushed Ed's abrasive tone off, not even flashing a smug smirk - something he normally never did, which immediately set Ed on high alert. Whatever this was, it warranted urgency. "There's someone who wants to see you."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

Mustang bit his lip slightly. "Well, I'm not really sure what he's doing here, but-"

Ed scowled in irritation. "_Who?_" he repeated.

"I don't know," Mustang started hurriedly, "but he said he was from... _Rosefields_."

Ed's eyes widened.

After a few seconds, Al deemed Ed speechless, and asked in his place, "W-what would a mental hospital want with nii-san?"

Roy shrugged helplessly. "Should I direct him towards the room?"

Al exchanged an apprehensive glance with his brother before nodding definitely. "Yes, please, Colonel."

Roy nodded, his mouth a thin line of concern, as he strode back out of the large room, not bothering to shut the white wooden door behind him. He'd be coming straight back in again anyway.

Ed sat staring blankly at the transmutation circles he'd drawn on his sheets with permanent marker (the nurses had gone ballistic when they'd found out the pen didn't wash off), wishing that there was some way to fix the problem with alchemy. Because there obviously _was_ a problem, else why would there be shrinks lining up to see him?

Mustang returned a moment later. "He's in here," he said loudly, alerting Ed to his presence. Ed looked up at the door, frowning.

A grey-haired man in a white suit (_suit, not lab coat_, Ed noted) approached him, smiling like you would at a child who was misbehaving. "Hello, Mr. Elric. I'm Dr. Anderson. I work at Rosefields. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended his right hand, and Ed, feeling in a particularly sour mood, gripped it with far more force than necessary.

"You too," Ed grumbled. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, let alone pleasantries with men in white coats who might want to lock him up in a padded cell.

The doctor blinked and sat down in the seat Al had recently vacated in favour of restlessly marching up and down at the foot of Ed's hospital bed. "I see you are recovering quite well, Mr. Elric." The doctor smiled disconcertingly, though it had no effect on the military man's eyes. "To be frank, I was expecting another few weeks before I paid you a visit, so I apologise for the short notice."

Ed's eyebrow rose. "_Short_ notice? There was no fucking notice at all!"

"Nii-san," Al whispered harshly, reminding Ed of his manners around potentially harmful strangers.

Dr. Anderson blinked. "It seems you are full of energy," he said slowly, as if not knowing quite what else to say. "Do you know when you will be released from hospital?"

The sudden subject change startled the other three occupants of the room, and it took them a few seconds to process the information requested of them. "No," Ed said eventually, a dangerous lilt to his tone that he often used on enemies in fights subconsciously leaking into his gruff voice.

The doctor nodded. "That's a shame." He cast his gaze over the once-shiny, metallic limb protruding from the bland, greenish gown. "Is your automail still fully functioning after what happened?"

"Yes," Ed answered, the warning tone in his voice becoming clearer. "Though I need to have the ports adjusted and new limbs." Before the doctor could ask his next protruding question, Ed answered, exasperated, "I don't know how long. At least three weeks, Winry said."

"Who is this 'Winry' you speak of?" Anderson asked politely, as if he wasn't poking around in the privacy of one of the most famous and dangerous men in the country.

"My mechanic," Ed answered curtly, all traces of subtly quickly dissipating. He wasted no time in adding a question of his own: "Now, are you planning on leaving anytime soon? Or am I gonna have to call security to kick you out?"

"Nii-san!" Al squeaked. He was used to his brother's rude bluntness and obvious lack of tact, but Ed rarely verbally forced someone out of his company in such a brusque fashion, especially someone with a higher position than his own.

"It's okay," Anderson assured Al quietly, before standing up and dusting imaginary dirt off his pristine suit. "I shall take that as my cue to leave." The doctor made it to the door and had his wrinkled hand on the shiny doorknob before he paused, saying something that would sound threatening to even the most naïve child. "Though take it from me, Mr. Elric. I will be back." Anderson exited, and his polished leather shoes clicked along the floor and down the hall, echoing throughout the tense silence in the much-too-large room.

It was a good few minutes before anyone dared to speak again. "Bastard," Ed muttered under his breath, and the insult seemed to wash away all the tightness in the air.

"When do you think he's coming back, nii-san?" Al asked. "Hopefully not anytime soon. I don't like him." Al sighed.

"Neither do I, Alphonse," Roy murmured from across the room.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Mr. Mustang," Al asked out of the blue as the two wandered towards the canteen to get lunch a half an hour later later. "Where's Mei? The last time I saw her, she was with you, and then you came in to nii-san's room on your own."<p>

Roy blinked. "I have no idea, Alphonse. She excused herself shortly after we had tea yesterday, and I haven't seen her since." Roy sighed, waving it off. "She may be young, but she resembles Fullmetal in a way. She's independent and responsible, and I'm sure that wherever she is, she's fine."

Al nodded, smiling slightly at the ground.

Roy cast him a sideways glance. "You like the flooring that much?"

Al flushed a furious shade of pink that burned on his cheeks and the back of his neck. "N-no! It's not that..." he trailed off, unable to say anything personal to a man such as Roy Mustang.

Roy raised a curious eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Oh really? Well, then, Alphonse, care to enlighten me?"

Al grunted incoherently in reply and the blush grew even more saturated in colour on his pale face, confirming Roy's suspicions. He knew not to push the subject any further, if Al was anything like his brother. Roy valued his life, after all, even if only a little.

Thankfully, both parties were spared any more of the awkwardness that had settled like a cloud around them when they arrived at the noisy, crowded canteen.

"Hey, Colonel, Alphonse!" Havoc called from across the large expanse. Al was sure he said something else, too, though it was lost among the raucous conversation and beefy laughs of the military men surrounding them.

Al waved, smiling widely, and made his way over to where the rest of Mustang's team was situated, blissfully enjoying their long-awaited lunch break. Luckily, thanks to his brother's reputation and the alchemist currently striding behind him, the crowd parted for them without too much trouble.

"Hi, Mr. Havoc," Al greeted cheerfully, still waving, as they wandered over to the group. Roy slipped into an empty seat Falman had saved for him beside Fuery, and Al hovered comfortably over him - the mess hall was so crowded at this time of day that there were never enough seats - there were at least fifteen soldiers standing up sprinkled around the large room.

"Hey, Alphonse," the group greeted simultaneously, earning a light giggle and a sparkling smile from said boy.

"How's the Chief?" Havoc asked conversationally.

Al's smile dropped into a fretting frown. "I... He... Someone, uh, visited him today. Less than an hour ago, actually. He said he was from," Al bent over slightly, whispering into the group now hunched together as if listening to some ghost story, "_Rosefields_."

There was a shared dramatic gasp and many pairs of widened eyes before they all drew back.

"What would that place want with the Boss?" Breda asked, so shocked he'd forgotten totally about his extra-large bacon and ham roll sitting, uneaten, in front of him.

"I don't know," said Al, biting his lip slightly. "But nii-san was really rude to him, and then he left, but he said he was going to come back," Al said, rushing through the words as if they might harm him if he lingered on them too long.

Breda exchanged a suspicious glance with Havoc.

"When did he say he was going to come back?" Fuery piped up for the first time in the conversation.

"He didn't say." Al shook his head as if to emphasise the point. "Nii-san hopes it won't be anytime soon, and frankly, I have to agree with him."

"Although, Alphonse," Riza spoke up, "Edward _has_ been acting a little oddly lately."

"Mm," Al agreed. "I guess it's to be expected - nii-san's just come back from-" he tripped over the words slightly, before deciding to be a wimp and use a substitute, "that place."

He obtained a few nods around the group in response.

A rather awkward silence proceeded to envelop the soldiers, before Fuery couldn't take it anymore and decided it would be best to just change the subject.

"I baked a cake."

Silence.

"If… If anyone wants some."

Havoc burst out laughing, immediately smashing any tension to smithereens. "I'll have some! I can't remember the last time I had cake that wasn't that horrid canteen stuff."

There was a round of appreciative chuckles as Fuery dug around for the plastic box in the shopping bag he'd been carrying around all day (how no one had managed to notice it, Fuery couldn't fathom).

Fuery gently laid the box on the cheap wooden table with a shy smile. "It isn't that good, but-"

"Wow!" Havoc moaned in bliss as he tore the lid off. "This has just _got_ to be the best thing I've smelled in _years_."

"You're telling me!" Breda laughed.

"I don't have a knife," Havoc stated dejectedly, a barely detectable pout on his face.

"Here," Falman offered a full-size kitchen knife to Havoc, who just stared in awe, eyes wide.

"… Where the _hell_ did you get that?"

Falman pushed up his glasses with an air of pride, revealing nothing except a small smirk.

Havoc shook his head, taking the offered utensil. He chopped the cake into eight slices of differing size, grinning widely at the wonderful smell of cream and homemade jam wafting out of the fresh cuts.

"Alright, who wants the biggest bit?"

Breda grabbed the proffered slice without hesitation, dumping it on his canteen tray beside his double portion of lunch and bacon and ham roll from the diner next door.

The rest of the crew proceeded to claim various slices; Havoc and Roy broke out into a small fight over the third-largest slice.

Riza modestly claimed the smallest slice, taking a small mouthful and smiling in approval at Fuery, who blushed.

"Aww, Colonel, that's no fair," Havoc whined after Roy had threatened to court-martial him if he didn't give Roy the cake.

"All's fair in love and war, Havoc."

Riza sighed.

* * *

><p>"May I come in?" a timid voice asked from the other side of Ed's door.<p>

"Who'sh it?" Ed asked, his mouth full of the leftover slice of cake Al had brought him a few minutes ago before excusing himself again. Apparently, Havoc had miscounted the number of people when he'd cut the cake.

"Mei."

"Shure, c'me in."

Mei opened the door slowly, poking her head through the gap and thoroughly scanning the room before letting herself relax and close the door behind her.

Ed gave her an odd look, to which she smiled slightly, and chirped, "Checking for assassins. Mr. Alphonse would be sad if you got killed."

"Righ'." Ed deadpanned, turning his attention back to his now-empty plate as he swallowed the last mouthful of the heavenly substance. "So, no offence or anything, but why are you here?"

"Your nervous system is damaged, correct?"

Ed blinked, one eyebrow raised. "Uh… yeah."

Mei grinned. "I can fix that!"

"You- What- _Hey_!"

Mei had leapt up onto Ed's hospital bed, pinning him down as she stuck serrated knives into various places on the sheets.

"Uh… Mei?" Ed asked uncertainly, not daring to move in case he slashed a part of himself on a dagger.

"Yes?" she answered casually, as if she did this sort of thing every day.

"What are you doing?"

She gave Ed an odd look before continuing to align the daggers - it was difficult on soft surfaces. "Alkahestry."

Ed's eyes widened in realisation and he let out a relieved laugh. "Oh."

"Stay still," she ordered, before laying her hands near one of the knives. A look of firm concentration was set upon her young face as she activated the circle, sending the dimly-lit room into fits of explosive colour as the alkahestry worked its magic.

Or science.

The colours faded away after a few long seconds, and Ed blinked at the sudden dullness of the room as Mei got off him, withdrawing the knives from his bed.

"It might take a few seconds to start working, but I'm going to warn you about the pain of your wounds-"

"_FUCK!_"

* * *

><p><strong>Cake, because I was hungry at the time and seriously couldn't think of anything else to put in there. XD<strong>

**I wouldn't be surprised if I've lost all my reviewers because I made everyone wait so long (and trust me, I feel awful), but I'm still going to beg and plead for reviews anyway. :3 Review please~**

**I honestly hope it was worth the wait. *Bows***


	7. Six: Back Again

**Sorry for the long wait, but at least it wasn't as bad as last time! *Weak laugh* Again, I've had about 90% of this chapter stored on my computer for the past month or so, and I never got round to writing the last bit... ^_^;;**

**Yeah, this chapter's a little shorter than usual... Please forgive me!**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six - Back Again<strong>

"Nii-san?" Al's usually cheerful voice piped up from outside Ed's isolated room, laced with concern. "What's wrong? I heard you swearing from the other wing."

"My nerves...!" Ed ground out, stiffly ushering Al into the room. "_It fucking hurts_!"

Al blinked, processing the new information. "Your nerves...?" He tilted his head slightly in momentary confusion, before realisation dawned on him and his eyes grew to the size of saucepans, his jaw dropping through the floor. "They're working again?" he exclaimed.

"_Yes_!" Ed screamed, every muscle in his body visibly tense in the sudden, unexpected onslaught of pain from his injuries. "_Fuck_, everything hurts!"

Al didn't seem to be listening. "You're healed!" He shoved his head around the door and yelled down the corridor, not caring who heard, "Nii-san's healed! His nerves are working again!" at the top of his lungs.

Luckily, Ed's doctor was just having a casual stroll down the corridor at that point, enjoying his coffee break - he almost dropped his coffee all over the tiled floor in shock when he heard Alphonse's voice reverberate down the straight, narrow hallway.

He blinked in wary bewilderment as the sounds of cries of joy and yells of agony merged to form a sound he could not describe; all he could say about it was that it was _very, very loud_, and the nurses were beginning to fret.

"Doctor!" Al had finally noticed him, and was sprinting down the corridor at an alarming rate, almost smashing straight into the poor man. "Doctor, nii-san's healed!" Al shouted in his face.

"A-Alphonse?"

Al didn't seem to have heard. "Nii-san's nerves are working again! He's healed! He can have all the automail surgery and everything, and he can get discharged! He won't have to stay here for much longer! Nii-san always hated hospitals, and he's really happy to know he won't have to stay here forever, but I think he's in quite a bit of pain-"

Al ranted on in a similar way for a good three minutes before the poor doctor caught his bearings long enough for them to not slip out of his grasp again. It was at this point that he noticed what Al was actually saying.

"-and everything seems fine, though it probably hurts quite a bit, but he seems okay, and he has lots of energy-"

"_Alphonse_!" The doctor harshly cut him off, silencing the almost hysterical boy practically bouncing up and down in front of him from adrenaline and excitement.

"Yes?" Al said, not missing a beat.

The doctor took a deep breath, before slowly exhaling. "_What_, exactly, happened to your brother?"

* * *

><p>Ten minutes, a hyperactive, worried Alphonse and an incredibly irritated doctor later, the two (along with Roy, whom they'd met in the corridor and had dragged along) found themselves sitting at Edward's bedside, enjoying a warm (not quite hot) cup of coffee while talking about Ed's newfound pain.<p>

"Where does it hurt, Edward?" the doctor professionally asked, taking out a clipboard and frowning slightly when his pen was sighted not in his pocket, but on Ed's beside table.

"_Fucking everywhere_!"

The doctor paused momentarily, deciding exactly what to write in the specified box.

"How much does it hurt?"

Ed shot him a glare worthy of the title 'scariest face in Amestris'.

The doctor sighed, scribbling 'a lot' in the box underneath the previous blank one. "Well, we'll need to do some tests, Mr. Elric, but for now it seems as if your nerves are perfectly healed." The doctor narrowed his eyes microscopically, before saying slowing, "How... _odd._"

Roy cleared his throat uncomfortably - he'd been alerted by Mei in the hospital staff room (both were there without permission, coincidentally for the same reason, namely tea) that she'd healed Ed's numbness, and that no one apart from Roy, Mei or Ed himself knew. "Well, doctor, thank you very much for tending to-"

"Don't talk like I'm some - _shit_ - sickly animal."

"-Fullmetal on your break. I'm sure he appreciates it."

The doctor let out a quiet chuckle. "I'm sure he does, Colonel Mustang." With that, the doctor politely bowed and stepped out of the room, leaving Ed, Roy and Al alone.

"Nii-san," Al spoke up suddenly, "should I call Winry?"

Ed gave Al a face clearly saying, _Why the hell?_

Al rolled his eyes. "You've had the last of your invasive surgeries, right? So Winry's going to want to know she can start working on your automail. And you said she'll need to adjust the ports, too, right?"

Ed groaned loudly, slumping back onto the bed with a sound closely resembling a teenage, rebellious sob. "Fuck." He opened his eyes, but didn't make any attempt to sit up. "Fine. Call her. It's better she knows now and doesn't kill me than I put it off and she _does_ kill me."

Al grinned before turning to Roy. "I'll be right back, Mr. Mustang."

Roy nodded in acknowledgement, watching Al as he eagerly left the room in search of a phone he could use for free.

As soon as the white door had been modestly shut behind him, Roy exhaled slightly, drawing a very bored-looking Ed's attention.

"What?" Ed asked bluntly, his face scrunching up in irritation when he realised the doctor had reclaimed his pen.

"Hm..." Roy made a sound of thinking, and Ed snorted. "I suppose I was just wondering why it was _Alphonse_ who was jumping for joy and celebrating, rather than _you_."

Ed shot Roy a look of surprised incredulity. "You're kidding, right? You honestly think I can celebrate like that when my body hurts so much I'd rather you were practising flame alchemy on it?"

There a thick, slightly tense pause to which Ed seemed oblivious. As always.

"Oh." Roy couldn't really think of anything to say to that. Apparently, Ed's wounds hurt more than he was letting on.

Roy suddenly stood up rather jerkily, his white plastic chair toppling backwards out of surprise. That earned a wide-eyed blink from Ed, whose eyes followed Roy as he made for the door.

"Where're you going?" Ed asked.

Roy gave a half-smirk in response, angering Ed to the point where he began to growl menacingly, baring his teeth. As Roy was pulling the door to behind him, he said loudly, so Ed could hear, "To find a doctor."

Why in hell Roy wanted to find a doctor baffled Ed to no end, but he thought it best to just leave Roy to himself - Roy's matters were no concern of his, after all.

By the time Roy got back (namely around eight minutes later), Ed had obtained another pen from god-knows-where (non-permanent this time) and was sketching experimental flame alchemy circles on his pillow while managing to successfully ignore the two angry nurses fretting over the ruined sheets.

He sighed heavily, resisting the very tempting urge to just burn all three of them right then and there. It was difficult, though. "Fullmetal," he growled half-heartedly.

"Whatcha want now, Colonel Bastard?" Ed turned, his attention seemingly entirely focused on Roy and his annoying intrusion, but his left hand was still skimming lightning-fast over the pillows, drawing some of the most intricately designed and complicated (incorrect, yes, but baffling all the same) transmutation circles Roy had ever seen.

Roy raised an eyebrow. "An outlet?"

Ed tilted his head to the side slightly. "Huh?"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Is drawing transmutations circles all over your bed sheets some kind of outlet for the pain?"

Ed nodded in understanding, grinning widely. "I guess so. It focuses my mind on something else, at least."

Roy drew out his signature smirk. "They're all incorrect, you know. None of them would ever work."

Ed scowled, flushing beet red. "I know that! I was just experimenting, that's all."

Roy's smirk grew. "Sure you were."

Ed's face became impossibly redder, and the infuriation and indignation were scrawled across his face in thick, red marker.

Roy finally relented, chuckling. "I got you some painkillers."

Ed's scowl lessened microscopically. "Let me see them."

Roy blinked, before almost bursting out in laughter. "You don't trust me?"

"No I don't!"

"I'm offended, Fullmetal."

"Just give me the damn painkillers." Ed scowled violently, his lip curling back a touch to reveal slightly crooked teeth, surprisingly white for someone lacking toothpaste for the past nine months.

"Sure, sure." Roy threw the three small boxes of joy onto Ed's lap before flopping down into the empty leather armchair.

"How many can I take?" Ed inquired, scouring the back of the boxes but finding no indication of dosage guidelines.

"Two in twenty-four hours for under twelves," Roy replied with a wicked smirk.

The fearsome glare he in turn received was terrifying enough to make most Generals cringe - on Roy, however, it had no effect, to Ed's undying frustration.

Roy chuckled, thoroughly amused by the rampant indignation on his subordinate's young features. "Four in twenty-four hours."

"Hmph." Ed tore open the box, popped out six tablets onto his bed sheet and shoved the rest of the pills under the mattress. He proceeded to down the tablets all in one go with no water, much to Roy's shock and exasperation. Why couldn't the kid ever do as he was told?

"Right, you're taking two tomorrow." Roy glared at Ed, his chin resting on his left palm.

"Shut up."

* * *

><p>"Nii-san!" Al shrieked as he sped into the room. "Dr. Anderson's back!"<p>

"Anderson?" Ed asked in panicked confusion.

"Yes!" Al wailed. "From Rosefields!"

Ed choked on the cold pasta he was stuffing his face with. "_That_ guy?"

"Yes!"

Both brothers were just as distressed as each other - they didn't want Ed to go to a mental hospital!

"Where is he?" Ed asked suddenly.

"Lobby," Al replied, now pacing the room in an effort to stay sane himself. If his brother was forced to go to Rosefields, Al honestly didn't know what he would do.

"Great," Ed muttered. "Al, can you get Mustang in here? He's in the corridor somewhere looking for a vending machine."

Al nodded, rushing back out of the room, leaving Ed to drown in worries of his own.

_What if it turns out, after all that, I _am _insane? What if I have to go to Rosefields and live there with stupid nurses and loads of weirdoes? Dammit, I'd completely lose my reputation. I'd be known as the 'Fullmental Alchemist' instead, and I'd get no respect. I'd be treated like a kid again._

_Damn, they might stop giving me free drinks down the pub._

"Fullmetal?" The Colonel's hard voice penetrated Ed's panicky thoughts, and he was swiftly yanked out of his reverie as Roy shut the door behind him.

"Colonel." Ed didn't exactly _love_ Mustang, but he was glad for someone to be in the room who, at least, didn't want to ship him off to the Hall of Crazies. Roy Mustang had quite a bit of power, Ed knew, so if anything, the Colonel could help persuade the shrink that Ed definitely _didn't_ need to go to Rosefields.

At least, Ed didn't _think_ he did.

"The doctor's coming now, nii-san. Try not to be rude to him," Al sighed in helpless exasperation. He knew his brother would be rude to Dr. Anderson no matter what he said.

Ed screwed his face up. "Not my fault I don't like the bugger."

"_Nii-san!_"

There was a timely rap on the pristine white door. "May I come in?"

Ed scowled, and said rather loudly, "No."

Roy opened the door graciously. "Sorry, doctor. He's not in a very good mood right now. Come in, sit down." Roy gestured towards the vacant leather armchair.

"Ah, I see. Thank you very much, Colonel Mustang." Dr. Anderson strode slowly into the room, slickly sliding into the proffered seat.

He turned his head to face Ed. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Elric."

"Can't say the same for you."

"_Nii-san_! I'm sorry about my brother, doctor. He seems to be in one of his 'off' moods." Despite his somewhat calm and apologetic tone of voice, Roy could see Al gesturing frantically to Ed behind Dr. Anderson's back. His eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance, and the hands movements were rapid and jerky.

"I see," Dr. Anderson chuckled. "Do you often have mood swings? Or is this just because I'm here?" he asked casually, not realising just how much of a bull's-eye he'd hit.

Ed tensed. He wasn't sure whether lying to the doctor was the best thing to do or the worst thing; if he told him the truth, he might be locked up. If he lied, then all sorts of repercussions could show up later on his medical report. "Both," he said. "You make it worse." The truth, after all.

The doctor raised his eyebrows, ignoring the end comment. "How bad are the mood swings usually?"

Ed sighed roughly, deciding to stop trying to deceive people like Mustang, and instead be his usual self. "Do you want the truth or the half-assed lie I've been spreading around?"

The doctor hesitated. "The truth, if you please."

Ed scowled at the wall, refusing to make eye contact as he spoke. "I always had mood swings when I was younger - you know, the whole 'adolescent' thing usually brings them on - and they were often quite extreme. But since I've been in here, they've gotten... really bad."

The doctor's face turned serious. "How bad?"

"Sort of..." Ed trailed off momentarily, thinking out the best possible way to describe the emotional rollercoaster. "Sort of like being bipolar. Except as well as highs and lows, I'm getting 'angry' and 'hysterical' in the mix."

There was a long, almost penetrable silence stretched around the room, getting tangled in certain places as everyone tried to escape it.

"... I see."

There was no other reaction from the doctor, and Ed suddenly, with a shot of freezing panic down to his toes, realised that the doctor may not have been trustworthy. What if he wasn't? What if Ed had just told a major vulnerability to a total, untrustworthy stranger?

"Do you have any paper?"

The question caught the other three occupants of the room by surprise. Ed stared into the doctor's eyes, trying and failing miserably to gauge whether or not the doctor was being serious. "Um... Yes?" Ed reached under his bed, wincing as he pulled slightly at his new stitches, and tugged out a crumpled wad of clipboard and paper.

Roy raised an eyebrow, but opted to say nothing regarding the matter of how, exactly, a doctor's clipboard, with an added bonus of a stash of paper, had ended up under Edward's mattress.

The doctor pulled a pen out of his pocket and scrawled something on the top piece of paper before handing the clipboard back to Ed.

Ed's eyes widened in rare terror as his blazing golden eyes skimmed the five lines etched onto the cheap notepaper. Roy and Al could only exchange concerned glances as they looked on at the silent scene in front of them, not wanting to sound rude by asking what was written down.

"I hope you'll at least consider it, Mr. Elric. It would do you some good." The doctor put his pen away and stood up, flattening out his creased suit (the same one as the day before) and smoothing down his quickly disappearing hair. "Goodbye. I hope to be in contact with you all soon." And with a final, slightly forced smile, he left.

Roy and Al left no time in pouncing on Ed like hyenas. "What does it say?" Al said hurriedly.

Ed merely turned the clipboard around for them to see, not trusting his vocal chords right now.

Roy and Al visibly paled, their expressions morphing to match Ed's, as they too scanned the page. It read, quite clearly, scaring the living hell out of its intended recipient:

_My number:_

_70134 3847955_

_Rosefields's number:_

_3443 009 009_

_Please book an appointment._

* * *

><p>Edward refused to talk about it with anyone, either throwing a tantrum or changing the subject whenever someone brought it up. Even Al hadn't managed to wheedle Ed's thoughts out of him.<p>

So, Roy called upon the person he knew was the best of the best at getting people to do or say things they don't want to.

There was a polite knock on the door, before the person let themselves in anyway. "Edward?"

Ed froze. That tone wasn't the tone she normally used to greet Ed. It was cold and hard... chillingly similar to the one she used when Roy wasn't doing his paperwork.

"Uh..." Ed swallowed. "Hawkeye?"

"Edward."

There was an icy flick of a gun being drawn out of a holster.

"Um... W-what is it?" Ed tried his best not to stammer. Really, he did.

"Show me the note."

Ed frowned up at Hawkeye in silent rebellion, but the soft 'click' of the safety catch sent him rummaging through the various stockpiled rubbish under his mattress.

He shoved a messy clipboard towards her, and she took it with her left hand, the pistol unwavering beside Edward's head.

He watched as her eyes skimmed the lines, before widening fractionally and offering the papers back to Ed, who snatched them quickly as if wanting to hide it away and forget all about it.

He shoved them jerkily back under his mattress; Hawkeye caught him shift slightly on his bed, as if just sitting on the place the note was under would sentence him.

There was an extended silence between the two, during which Hawkeye snapped her gun back into its holster at her hip and Ed began slowly tearing a sandwich a nurse had brought up a while ago to pieces.

"Edward," Hawkeye said again, quietly and softly this time, breaking the long silence. "Are you considering it?"

Ed's head snapped up, wild eyes scanning the older woman's deadly serious face for any possible sign of a joke. _But then again_, he realised_, Hawkeye never jokes._

He ducked his head, deciding a staring contest with his sheets would be more productive.

"... Edward?"

Ed winced, unseen to the Hawk's Eyes. "No... Yes. Ugh, maybe! I don't know," he groaned, burying his face in his cold hands and gritting his teeth.

A sympathetic gleam shone in Riza's eyes. "I think," she started slowly, lowering herself gracefully into a chair, "that it would be a good idea." At Edward's shocked gaze, she sighed. "No, let me rephrase that. I think... that knowing what's wrong would be good for you. We both know, you especially, that these 'mood swings', as you described them, aren't normal, and if you just book a one-time appointment to find out if anything is seriously wrong, then it would be to your benefit."

Ed sat there in a daze. What Hawkeye said made sense, but... "I... I don't want to."

"I know you don't. But sometimes, people have to do things they don't want to do."

Ed scowled to himself, mentally kicking himself for being so weak-minded. He was going to need to be much stronger for this to all work out okay, both physically and mentally. Just like he used to be. "Okay."

Riza looked up in mild surprise, not only at the agreement but at the strange warmth to the deep voice that she hadn't noticed had been missing.

"I'll do it. I'll go to Rosefields."

* * *

><p><strong>Dun dun dun! :O<strong>

**Please tell me how it was~!**


	8. Seven: Gaining Strength

**This is all a btit rushed. Sorry, but the story would've been painfully slow if I hadn't skipped a little.**

**So, here you are. Sorry it's short ^_^;; ****It's currently half midnight where I am, and I'm not supposed to be awake. XD**

**Disclamier~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven - Gaining Strength<strong>

There was a collective silence in the spacious hospital room; six mouths hung open and six pairs of eyes were simultaneously bulging out of their sockets.

Then, as if the scene had been rehearsed, all six actors gasped, "_What?_"

Ed grinned grimly. "I _said_, morons, that I'm going to Rosefields."

Al, being used to crazy (no pun intended) and completely off-the-hook, spontaneous decisions from his brother, was the first to recover. "B-but why? You said you definitely weren't going to go there, and you seem fine to me, and..." Al trailed off, his lips still slightly parted in case the rest of the sentence miraculously came to him.

Ed rolled his eyes. "I said I'm _going_ there. I'm not _staying _there. A one-time appointment to find out if there's anything wrong with me." His intonation lifted up almost unnoticeably at the end of the sentence, implying a subtle form of question; he glanced discreetly at Hawkeye, searching her calm, composed face for any hint of agreement or encouragement.

She nodded fractionally, and that was all Edward needed to continue. "Do you lot really, honestly think I'd go to a crazy house willingly?" he asked skeptically, unscrewing the lid of his (now prescribed) medicine bottle, popping five painkillers into his mouth and downing them with an added gulp of two-day-old water from his bedside.

Havoc burst out laughing, causing the other four occupants of the room still frozen to jolt. "'Course not, Chief. Why the hell would you do that?" He grinned.

"Man's got a point," Breda sighed, taking a bite out of his previously forgotten sandwich and plopping down into an unoccupied chair.

Falman, Fuery and Roy exchanged suspicious glances. The last person to see Ed before his miraculous change of view was... They all whipped around, staring intently at the only woman in the room, who seemed carefully oblivious to their silent musings.

_Hawkeye_.

"So," Ed started again, reclaiming everyone's attention, "from now on, I'm going to eat as much as I possibly can whenever I can possibly eat it, and after I've reached seven stone I'm going to start working out again with the new automail Winry's going to have to make me, and then I'll visit Rosefields."

Everyone smiled. It was a simplistic and idealistic plan, but sometimes simple works best, so they exchanged satisfied nods.

"Sounds like a plan to me. Breda," Roy commanded.

"Sir?"

"Give Fullmetal some tips on gaining weight."

A grin spread around the room, and Breda didn't bother saluting as he gruffly muttered, "Yes, sir."

Roy smirked.

* * *

><p>Ed stepped off the scales, groaning.<p>

"How much?" Roy and Al asked simultaneously.

Ed scowled. "Five stone twelve."

Roy sighed condescendingly. "You never were good at anything useful, Fullmetal - you can't even put on weight!"

"Who are you calling useless, you big, fat, procrastinating womanizer?"

"Let's just calm down, please."

"But-"

"Nii-san."

Ed pouted, but said nothing.

"Well at least you've gained three pounds, nii-san."

"... That's hardly anything, Al."

"Yes, but at least it's something!"

Ed clobbered Al around the back of the head. "Stop being so positive. I need encouragement to gain more weight, dammit, not people telling me I've done well!" he scolded friendlily.

Al chuckled. "Yes, nii-san. Bad nii-san. Gain more weight."

That only earned his a deadpan look from Ed and a smirk from Roy currently reading a newspaper he had obtained from god-knows-where.

"Here," Roy shoved a deep-fried bacon and cheese roll vaguely in Ed's direction. "Eat."

Ed eyed it with distrust. "What the hell _is_ that thing?"

Roy laughed. "Very, very fatty food that no one can usually afford to eat constantly. But you can, and it tastes lovely." Ed was still hesitant, so Roy rolled his eyes. "It's a deep-fried bacon and cheese roll."

Ed mouthed a silent 'Oh' and took the proffered food. After the first bite, he moaned in bliss, quickly devouring the rest of the roll in record time.

"Did you buy this from the canteen?"

Roy gave Ed a disbelieving look. "Do you honestly think the canteen could produce something that good?"

Ed smirked. "I guess not. Where'd you get it?"

"The takeaway down the road. They come free with the fish and chips."

Ed nodded. "Get me some more. And the fish and chips, too."

Roy gave Ed a playfully stern look. "I'm not your servant."

"No, you're not. I don't think I could put up with you constantly being near me twenty-four seven." At Roy's irritated frown, Ed stuck his tongue out, flopping back down on the bed.

* * *

><p>This process repeated for the next three weeks. Ed would eat constantly, do minimal exercise and weigh himself every half hour just to see if that last fried egg weighed more than a few ounces.<p>

The doctors told Ed he was recovering, and that putting on weight was good, but he shouldn't rush it, as it might have physical repercussions. Ed ignored them, of course, and carried on putting on as much weight as possible in the shortest possible amount of time.

Exactly three weeks and two days later, Ed leapt off the scales with a triumphant "Whoop!", loudly informing everyone (that included not only Roy and his team, but also the many doctors who had previously advised him to gain weight slowly) that he had reached seven stone.

He motioned to Havoc. "Where's the nearest telephone?"

"Just down the hallway, on your left." Havoc grinned as Ed burst through the door at a sprint. He called after him good-naturedly, "Not too much exercise, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ed called back, his rough voice reverberating off the sterile walls.

Ed soon found the wall near the receptionist lined with telephones. He walked over to one, trying to look as little like an escaped patient calling a taxi as possible, and dialed the required number.

"Hello?" a young man's voice answered. Then, before Ed could form a coherent word on his tongue, the man rushed ahead. "Oh, is this about the chickens? I'm really sorry about that. The pound said he'd been trained properly, but it looks like-"

"I'm sorry," Ed interrupted, "it looks like I have the wrong number." He promptly hung up, before sighing and trying to remember what the number he wanted _really_ was.

"09867 768567," a cheery voice sang behind him, causing Ed to practically jump out of his skin.

"Al!" he screeched as quietly as possible, lest he attract even more attention to himself. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"  
>Al laughed. "Sorry, nii-san."<p>

Ed scowled, before turning around to face the phone again, picking up the receiver. "What did you say the number was?" he grumbled.

"09867 768567," Al repeated slowly as Ed dialed.

The phone rung four times before a feminine teen's voice picked up with an enthusiastic, "Hello, Rockbell automail, how may I help?"

"Winry," Ed greeted.

"Oh, hey," Winry replied, her tone suddenly much less enthusiastic than before. Ed heard her faintly calling, "It's just Ed, Granny," in the background before she addressed him again. "What do you want?" There was a pause, before, "Oh, are you ready for the automail?"

Ed nodded, before remembering Winry couldn't hear him nodding, and he said, "Yeah."

"That's great! Hang on." There was more muffled talking on the other end of the line which Ed couldn't make out, then, "Sure, I'll be down there in a day or two. You better not break the automail you have in the meantime! I need it to model off."

"Sure, sure," Ed replied with a slightly irritated chuckle. "See you soon."

"Bye." Winry hung up, leaving Ed standing in front of a telephone with nothing to do.

"Let's go back, see if they've restocked your favourite chocolate bar in the vending machine yet," Al joked.

Ed grinned, following him down the now-familiar white corridor. He stretched his arms over his head, sighing at the familiar crack.

"Can you _not_ do that please?" Al whined from beside him. "It makes me feel sick."

Ed stuck his tongue out. "Tough."

* * *

><p>Two weeks came and went, as did Winry, leaving Ed with shiny new metal limbs (now made to fit an even smaller frame) and two very sore automail ports.<p>

"It hurts," Ed whinged at an uncaring Roy Mustang currently reading the newspaper in a nearby chair.

"Do I look like I care? Suck it up like a man, Fullmetal," Roy said far too casually for Ed's liking, flipping the page and sighing at the rubbish the newspapers housed these days.

Ed scowled, deciding he wasn't going to get any complimentary painkillers from Roy. He turned to his little brother with a pleading look in his eye, reminiscent of the various kitties Al had wanted to adopt over the years.

Of course, the kitten pout did the trick, and Al sighed gruffly in defeat. "Okay, okay." He gave Ed a playful glare, showing Ed he was entirely displeased with his brother's methods of begging.

"See," Ed muttered as soon as Al was out of the room, "_Al's_ nice to me."

Roy snorted, rolling his eyes.

Ed was about to dish him a sarcastic comment, but when he opened his mouth, instead of said sarcastic comment shooting out, he let out an uncharacteristic shriek.

"What-" Roy began, looking up, but flinched visibly himself as the sight of three tonnes of muscle assaulted his eyeballs. He recovered far quicker than the still shellshocked Edward cowering on his bed, though, and he let out a sigh of relief. "Major Armstrong."

"It is good to see you again, Colonel Mustang," the Major bellowed, saluting in greeting, "But I am here to see Edward Elric. Do you happen to know where he went?"

Roy blinked. He gestured to the bed. "He's here, just over-"

A sound suspiciously like a whimper could be heard from somewhere in the vicinity of the bed.

Roy looked over. Roy blinked.

Ed wasn't there.

"My," the Major exclaimed, "it seems we have a lost animal in the room! Call security, sir, we should have it taken to Master Sergeant Fuery!"

The door burst open, revealing a panicked Alphonse. "I heard a scream!"

"Do not fear, young Alphonse!"

Al cringed. "O-okay."

"Alphonse," Roy said, catching his attention, "the Major just came in, and Fullmetal screamed like a girl and hid under the bed. Care to explain why?"

Al's wide eyes turned confused as his breathing evened out. "I don't…" His eyes widened again, filled with an uncertainty and alarm that unnerved Roy just the slightest. Alphonse didn't often wear that expression, so Roy wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation. He let it be, though, in case his question was answered non-verbally as Al bent down and poked his head under the bed.

"Nii-san…?" Al whispered soothingly.

There was a muffed cry, before a gasp and some more quiet mutterings from Al that Roy couldn't make out as he Armstrong looked on, the newspaper forgotten.

Eventually, after what seemed like minutes, Al managed to successfully coax Ed out of his hiding place, strongly resembling a scared animal that had narrowly escaped being run over.

"Here," Al murmured, pressing the painkillers into Ed's hand.

Ed nodded in silent thank you, before downing the tablets dry.

There was a moment of tense silence, before Ed cleared his throat uncomfortably and muttered, much to Roy's surprise, "S-sorry."

"Why are you apologising, lad?" Armstrong suddenly boomed, causing the other occupants of the room to flinch at the sudden noise, Ed especially. "You did nothing wrong!"

"I…" Ed's wary eyes flickered between the floor, Armstrong, Roy and Al, before they darted to the door, his body following automatically before Al could get a grip on the loose hospital gown.

The three stood there in baffled and concerned silence as the door swung to with a rustle of fabric high-tailing it out of the oppressive room.

"Well, that was…" Roy murmured quietly, "unexpected."

"Quite," Armstrong enthusiastically agreed.

Al, however, was too caught up in his thoughts as his feet, too, led him past the white door into the open.

Roy exchanged a bewildered glance with Armstrong before sitting back down in the plastic chair and again picking up his newspaper. "Well," he said with a tone of finality, "if there's anything wrong, Alphonse will sort it out."

Major Armstrong, though still worried for Edward's wellbeing, decided it was best to agree, and he too pulled up a chair at the side of the bed, absently flicking through an alchemy textbook Ed had left lying around.

* * *

><p>Al spent the next half an hour scouring the hospital head-to-toe for his allusive brother. He asked every person he passed if they'd seen 'a teenager with long gold hair' wandering around the building. All answered negative. He thanked them and moved on, wishing Ed hadn't got himself into trouble while drifting around.<p>

"Dammit, nii-san… Where are you…?" he grumbled to himself, his voice laced with concern and slight irritation. "You could've at least picked somewhere obvious to hang around. Like, you know, the library or something."

Al strode down the narrow corridors, right past a door labelled with a plaque that read, 'No entry - roof access'.

He did a double-take.

Al grinned, glancing around before inconspicuously slipping through the door and closing it behind him.

There were two flights of stairs leading upwards, and one downwards, probably either to a lower floor or the basement. Al darted up the stairs, taking two at a time, and flung open the door when he reached the top.

There, leaning against the balcony, his silky hair swirling around him in the breeze, was his brother.

Al sighed in relief.

As Ed didn't seem to have noticed the door opening, however, Al decided to let him be for a while, and shut the door silently as he leaned against it to observe.

It was only in the soft sunshine that cast stark shadows in the lunch hour that Al truly realised what a mess Ed was. Even from twenty metres away, Al could see the black smudges under his eyes, the sharp shadows under his cheekbones - the gown was thin and the sun was strong, and Al could just about make out the silhouette of Ed's skeletal form through the sickly green material. Even after gaining nearly two stone, Ed was still far from a normal weight, and it made Al just want to shove the hugest pizza in the world down Ed's throat, whether he liked it or not.

However, Al set all this aside as he noticed the calmness in his brother's features. A tranquillity so rarely seen in his brother, it almost made him look like he was wearing Al's face as a mask it was so surprising.

Al decided in that moment, that whatever the doctors said, or the hospital manager who owned the roof, Ed would definitely be coming here more often.

AL smiled, sidling over loudly so as to give Ed notice of his arrival. He didn't want another Armstrong episode. "Hey, nii-san."

Ed smiled back, turning to face his brother. "Hey."

Al moved to stand next to Ed, but leaning backwards against the railings instead of forwards. "So…" he started, "what was that about earlier?"

Ed grimaced. "I just… I really don't know. One moment Armstrong wasn't there, and I was fine, and the next he scared the life out of me and I just felt like running away and attacking everything that tried to come near me." Ed chuckled wearily. "I guess I really do need that appointment, huh."

Al was about to protest, when he found his brother was right. As normal as Ed may seem most of the time, somewhere he was mentally damaged in a way that a fast recovery and lots of comfort food couldn't heal. He did need to see Dr. Anderson again, as much as they both disliked the slimy man.

"Just, from now on…" Ed murmured, "try not to surprise me, okay?" he grinned, playfully jabbing Al in the ribs. "And make sure no one else does, either. I want an alarm on that door. Or even better, get Hawkeye to stand outside of it. I bet I'd get no surprise visitors then."

They both laughed.

"Whatever you say, nii-san."

* * *

><p>"So you're better now?" Havoc asked, puffing absent-mindedly on his cigarette.<p>

"Not exactly _better_… but I'm okay. Just don't make any sudden noises," Ed warned with a grin.

"Right," Havoc nodded, grinning back as he blew out a stream of grey smoke into Ed's hospital room.

Ed raised an eyebrow in mocking disapproval. "Go take that smelly shit into someone else's room, would you?"

Havoc snorted. "Unfortunately, Chief, if I took this anywhere else in the building I'd get kicked out."

Ed rolled his eyes. "There's a 'no smoking' sign in my room too, you know."

Havoc grinned mischievously, taking another drag on the addictive roll.

Cue Al's entrance, armed with yet another large fish and chips with added deep-fried bacon and cheese roll. "Here you go, nii-san," Al said as he dumped the lot onto Ed's lap and collapsed lazily into the leather armchair.

"Thank you, dear brother," Edward sang in glee as he stared at the luscious nutrition sitting there invitingly.

Al laughed. "You're welcome."

"Mmm," Ed hummed as he took the first mouthful. "This is absolute _heaven_. Though I might not be able to finish it all."

"Eat as fast as you can," Havoc said. "Apparently, the slower you eat, the faster you get full up."

"Yeah, at the risk of getting indigestion," Al chuckled.

Ed shrugged. "The more the merrier." And thus he dug in to the absurdly over-sized portion.

"Nii-san, that saying is usually used in terms of people."

"Shut up and let me eat."

* * *

><p>"So," Ed said, drawing in a deep breath, "here we are."<p>

"Yes," Roy nodded, gazing up at the four-story building. "Here we are."

Ed glanced back at Roy and Al, threw his suitcase over his shoulder and began striding a little less than confidently towards the building, throwing a haphazard wave over his shoulder.

"Good luck, nii-san," Al called.

Ed turned one final time, grinning, his old fire finally relighting. "Yeah."

And with that parting word, he strode towards the building with the words 'Rosefields Hospital' engraved on the second floor wall.

* * *

><p><strong>Kyaaa, the plot is finally building! We meet Luna for real next chapter~ ;)<strong>

**I am a review whore. I would geatly appreciate one. ;3**


	9. Eight: Rosefields

**Yet again, I find myself updating this at half midnight. It's strange how I'm getting into the routine of writing from ten till midnight every night now. Unfortunately I won't be able to next week, though. School starts again. So no more rapid updates D:**

**Another sort of filler chapter. But this one has more action ;)**

**For a while I thought I'd lost this, 'cause I'd saved it in the _TATMWITC_ folder by mistake xD I can't be bothered to move it to the right folder, though, so... xD**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight - Rosefields<strong>

Ed stood, staring at the huge double glass doors as the military car reversed back onto the road behind him. He couldn't believe he was here. Even if he wasn't going to be staying.

He'd arranged to call a taxi back, since he didn't know how long the appointment was going to last, and he didn't want to keep Al (Mustang didn't matter) waiting outside.

He took in a deep breath, filling his head with much-needed oxygen, as he gathered the physical and mental strength to push the towering door open.

He quietly let the breath out as he stepped inside, inspecting the lobby for the receptionist's desk. He spotted it after a few seconds hunched in the corner of the room, the receptionist looking like she had much better things to do than sit at a desk in a place no one ever visited.

"Uh... excuse me?" Ed said, cautiously approaching the bored young woman.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide, before she saw it was only a person (and a relatively small one, at that). "Oh, hello. How may I help you?" She gave him her brightest smile - not only was he fairly good looking despite the scars, but he'd also saved her from the most boring day of her life. Not even the cleaner or that loopy teenager had said hello to her this morning.

"I have an appointment with... Dr. Anderson, I think his name was," Ed said slightly awkwardly as he stood at the front desk.

She looked him over again. _Is he another nutjob then?_ She sighed inwardly. All the good ones were either taken or mentally damaged these days.

Ed waited impatiently, drumming two fingers against the edge of the desk as she scanned a list of something in front of her.

She glanced at the clock. _Eight o'clock, eight o'clock, eight o'clock_, she repeated like a mantra in her head as she scanned today's schedule. _Aha_. "Edward Elric, for seven forty-five?" she asked disinterestedly, not looking up.

"That's me."

"Okay, his office is just-" She stopped mid-sentence, blinked, and turned her head to face the young man in front of her, searching him with her eyes. "_The_ Edward Elric? As in, the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

Ed laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. He hadn't expected to be recognised in this place. "Uh, yeah."

"Dear lord..." the woman (who, according to her nametag, was called 'Elizabeth') murmured, taking in every detail of the small man currently looking very awkward in front of her. Gold eyes (or eye, in his case), long hair, lack of height, strange fashion sense... Yes, it was definitely him.

"Um... So where, exactly, is Dr. Anderson's office?" he asked again, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny and wanting nothing more than to get this appointment over and done with.

Elizabeth blinked. "Oh, sorry. It's down that corridor, second door on the right."

"Thanks, Elizabeth," Ed said with a small grin as he headed for said corridor.

"Just Liz, if you don't mind," she smiled at Ed, who paused, before nodding and smiling back.

"Sure," he called as he busted through the door, leaving it swinging in his wake.

"What was that all about?" a tall, lanky man asked as he entered a moment later from the same doorway Ed had just exited through.

"That, Nathan," Liz smirked at her baffled colleague, "was the Fullmetal Alchemist."

* * *

><p>"Second door on the right, second door on the right," Ed muttered to himself as he wandered down the corridor. There weren't many doors, so it took him a while to reach the correct door. As he did so, he reached out an automail hand to knock, when a scrappily written slip of paper taped to the door caught his eye. Though the handwriting was messy enough to resemble Ed's own, Ed had no problem reading his own handwriting, and so quickly deciphered the message, 'Do not enter, basement access' scrawled in capitals.<p>

"Basement...?" Ed murmured in confusion, before glowering at the offending paper and slamming his fist against the door. "Too busy fawning over my name to give me the right fucking directions," he grumbled angrily as he stomped the rest of the way down the corridor, opening every door in sight without bothering to knock.

It was a good fifteen minutes, three floors and twenty-eight opened doors later that Ed finally found the correct room. He didn't bat an eyelid as he loudly barged into the silent room with an attention-claiming 'I finally fucking found it', causing the only occupant of the room to jump out of his seat in shock. "Ah," Ed exclaimed, "Dr. Anderson. I believe I had an appointment with you half an hour ago?"

Dr. Anderson blinked. He was confused, surprised, pleased and irritated all at the same time. He thought that the Elric would've had a change of heart since he rang up four days ago. Especially when the appointment time came and went.

But, apparently not.

"So?" Ed asked rudely, now leaning against the doorway, ungloved hands tucked into leather trouser pockets.

"Oh, yes..." Anderson glanced over the paperwork still scattered across his desk, before opening a drawer and sweeping the whole lot in, deciding he would save bills for later. "Please, sit down," he encouraged, gesturing towards the two armchairs opposite his desk, the only other furniture in the oversized room.

Ed hesitantly lowered himself onto the edge of the seat, leaning forward and resting his still rather bony elbows on his knees.

"You look a bit better, Mr. Elric," Anderson started conversationally. "More colour in your cheeks, and a bit more flesh on that skeleton."

"Yeah. Two and a half stone of more flesh, actually."

"Really? That's very good progress," Anderson said with mild surprise as he tore his gaze almost unwillingly from the window. "Still, we are not here to converse about your physical state, are we?"

"I'd like to think not, since this is a _mental_ hospital, and all."

Dr. Anderson smiled that creepy smile of his again as he leaned forward over his desk, linking his fingers together. "Well then, let's start with the simple questions - how are you feeling today?"

Ed sighed, glancing at the carpet for inspiration. "I don't know. Happy? Annoyed? Content is probably the best word to describe it. Restless, maybe," he replied, almost to himself, as he gazed out of the window behind Dr. Anderson's desk.

Anderson nodded. "Is this feeling a positive feeling?"

Ed paused, considering. "Mostly, I guess. If I didn't have to see you it probably would be completely."

Anderson chuckled lowly, deciding not to take offence. If he was offended by every insult the teen tossed his way, he'd be checking himself into his own hospital from depression and self-esteem issues soon enough. "Any recent... events?" He emphasised the last word, and Edward caught the hint.

He sighed grouchily, averting his eyes from Anderson's. "Yes," he admitted grudgingly. "A few weeks ago."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Do I have a choice?" Ed deadpanned, locking his gaze with Anderson's, who merely chuckled to himself.

Ed sighed again. "Armstrong snuck up on me in the hospital - he didn't mean to, he's just quiet - and scared the life out of me. I completely freaked. It took me half an hour on the roof and lots of comforting from Al to get me anywhere close to calm."

"I see. Are you normally startled easily?"

"You mean before?" Ed snorted. "No way in hell. This is recent."

Anderson considered this. "Has it happened more than once since you were hospitalised?"

Ed frowned. "Nothing half as bad as that, but I am a lot more jumpy in general. Any loud noises make me flinch."

Anderson nodded slowly, but reassuringly. "That's normal for people with your condition. I shouldn't worry about it too much. It should fade over time, or it won't and you'll get used to it."

Ed began to nod as he took the information in, before a thought crossed his mind, causing his head to snap up. "Wait... 'People with my condition'? You mean you know what's wrong?"

Anderson gave Ed a decidedly evil-looking (though that might've just been Ed being paranoid) half-lidded smile. "It's hard to discern exactly what the problem is, Mr. Elric. Your case is quite unique. I don't come across many torture victims, and those I do are usually either dead or completely deranged. You must understand that it's exceptionally rare to come across one such victim as you, Mr. Elric, who still has most of his sense with him. Therefore my diagnosis is barely more than an educated guess."

Ed bit his lip, edging forward on his seat, impatience bubbling up in his stomach. "Just tell me what you think is wrong."

Anderson sighed. "I think you might have a form of PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; I'm sure you've heard of it in your line of work."

Ed didn't say anything, too shocked to form a coherent sentence, so Anderson continued.

"The sensitivity to noise and sudden movements could be related to PTSD, as could the breakdown and discomfort around people you don't trust one hundred percent. It would also be reasonable, considering your experience, I imagine, was incredibly traumatic."

Ed blinked slowly, regaining motor function skills and shutting his jaw that was beginning to fall open. "I... see."

Anderson opened his mouth to say something else, when there was a light tap on the door.

Both Anderson's and Ed's eyes flew to it as the door swung open and a young girl drifted in, not waiting for permission to enter.

"Luna? What are you doing here?" Anderson asked with a note of surprise.

She answered with a dreamy expression. "The nargles told me to come here." Her gaze then focused on Edward, now staring intently at the mysterious girl before him. "Your hair is very pretty."

Ed opened and closed his mouth, confused and still in mild shock from his recent discovery.

"You look like a fish when you do that. Except for the hair. Fish don't have long hair," she stated slowly and dreamily, as if her words were made of air.

"Luna," Dr. Anderson interrupted gently, "why don't you go back to... wherever you just came from?"

Luna seemed to consider this a moment. "Okay... but the nargles won't be very happy. I'd watch out, doctor, or they might try to attack you." She glanced over at Ed. "You should be careful too."

"Y... yeah," Ed managed to force out, his eyes following Luna as she trailed out of the room humming tunelessly.

He continued to stare, slightly slack-jawed, at the empty doorway until Dr. Anderson politely cleared his throat, causing Ed to snap his head forwards, fighting off a blush.

"Who...Who is she?" Ed asked after a moment. "Is she a patient here?"

Anderson nodded. "Luna Lovegood." He frowned slightly. "Well, that's what she tells us, but she has no permanent record. We can't find a single official file about her, no matter how hard we look. It's as if she just literally appeared one day."

Ed's eyebrows rose a little in curiosity. "How long has she been here?"

"About... ten months, give or take a week." Anderson's small smile stretched into a smirk. "Why are you so interested?"

Ed did another impression of a fish, this time a very startled one. "I-I just, I..."

Anderson chuckled, before sobering. "Listen, Mr. Elric. I would like to make a suggestion, but I know that you'll probably turn it down without thinking. So," he continued quickly, silencing Ed's protests, "I would like you to seriously consider it, and the benefits it may do to you in the long term."

Ed fixed him with an intense 'try me' look.

Anderson took a breath. "I think you should stay here as a patient."

Ed's eyes widened. "A _what_?"

"A patient. Like Luna. Someone who lives here on the permanent ward, and who gets treatment, medicine and therapy sessions until they're ready to leave."

Ed's expression morphed into one of shocked disbelief. "No way in _hell_ am I-"

"That's why I told you to consider it, Mr. Elric. I honestly think this is the best way for you to recover. Here, we can give you guidance and support-"

"_Al_ can give me guidance and support."

"-and provide you with necessary treatment and medication, as well as a calm, controlled environment to live in. Can Mr. Alphonse give you that?"

Ed scowled. "I'm not staying."

Anderson sighed gruffly. "I really think it's in your best interests, Mr. Elric. In your state, you would only have to remain here for a few months at most, and then you can leave with a recovered mentality."

"I'm fine as I am!"

"Then why did you come here today?" Anderson sighed again, beginning to lose his patience, but not his hope, with the boy.

Ed paused fractionally. "Because I wanted to check if anything was wrong with me." His eyes narrowed. "And then _leave_."

"Leave to where? You have been discharged from the hospital. It has been brought to my attention that you have no official residence. If you stayed here as a patient, we would provide you with free shelter and food."

"I can live in the military dorms, like I used to!"

"The military might not be so quick to snatch you back, Mr. Elric, so soon after an experience like the one you've had. They might be distrustful of your mental state. If you recovered here, they would be more easily convinced that you are, in fact, okay."

"Mustang can convince them I'm okay."

"Pardon me for rudeness, but his rank is only that of a Colonel, correct? A Colonel does not have the ability to hire and fire Lieutenant Colonels."

"I'm not fired yet. He doesn't have to hire me back."

"Yet?"

"Exactly my point!" Ed exclaimed. "I _will_ be fired if I don't show up to work for months on end!"

Anderson assured, keeping calm, "I'm sure I could convince them, as a doctor, that you would be able to return to your duties after you have recovered."

"What if I don't want to 'return to my duties'?" he blurted almost hysterically.

"I believe now, Mr. Elric, you are completely contradicting yourself."

Ed huffed in silent outrage, crossing his arms over his chest like a child.

Mr. Anderson smiled. "Really, Mr. Elric, what do you have to lose?"

Ed's anger slowly began to dissipate as he sank back into the padded armchair. "My reputation," he sighed.

Anderson raised his eyebrows. "You don't strike me as the type to worry about his public image."

"Yeah, well, I am," Ed huffed, but looked down and to the side, as if ashamed to look Anderson in the eye. "I don't want people to hear the name 'Edward Elric' and think of the State Alchemist who had to be institutionalised."

Anderson sighed. "If it would convince you to stay, I can ask for it to be kept under wraps. The world will think you're on vacation on a far away island south of Creta."

Ed looked up, trying to hide the interest blooming on his face. "You could do that?"

Anderson nodded, knowing he'd won.

Ed sighed heavily, as if making a big decision. And for all it was worth, it _was_ a big decision. A very big one.

He let out the breath, meeting Anderson's gaze. "Okay. I'll stay."

* * *

><p>"You <em>what<em>?" Al screeched, fretting hysterically over Ed as he dumped his few belongings into his battered brown suitcase.

"I know," Ed sighed grouchily. "I still can't believe I agreed to it. But what's done is done, and he's right. What do I have to lose?" Ed shrugged casually, slamming the lid of his suitcase shut, before swiping it off the made bed.

"Nii-san..." Al said worriedly, and he trailed Ed out of the room and down the corridor. "Are you sure?"

Ed turned back to face him, a confident grin slithering onto his face. "I'm sure."

AL sighed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Okay," he breathed, looking his shorter brother in the eye. "But you've got to promise me that you will actually behave, okay? Don't mess it up."

Ed snorted. "I'm not _that_ dumb."

Al smiled. He knew now what a mother must feel like when her son decides to move out. He resisted the urge to beg Ed to call him every day, and instead accompanied him on his way to Mustang's office.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived. Ed slammed the door open, as usual, causing a grin to spread quickly around the room.

"Hey, Chief," Havoc greeted, offering a cigarette to Ed, who declined.

"Hey, Havoc." Ed cleared his throat dramatically, attracting everyone's attention and a few amused smiles. "Everyone, I have something to tell you all."

"You're finally admitting you're gay?" Roy suggested, not missing a beat as he scrawled yet another signature.

Ed flushed a deep pink. "I am not!" he exclaimed, before coughing and announcing, "I'm moving to Rosefields."

He received six pairs of wide eyes, a dropped stack of books and three toppled piles of paperwork in reply.

"You're _what_?" The entire office (excluding Riza, who just sat there looking bewildered) chorused.

"My reaction exactly," Al chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, uh, good for you," Breda said, a rather baffled look on his face, to his colleagues' agreement.

"When are you leaving?" Havoc asked, his cigarette now hanging, forgotten, in the corner of his mouth.

Ed grinned devilishly. "Now."

"_Now_?" Havoc echoed.

"Yes, must you leave _now_, Fullmetal? I haven't filled out any of the paperwork yet," Roy sighed in mock irritation.

"Yes, I'm leaving right now, just to piss you off, Mustang."

Roy gave Ed a stern look before attempting to sort out and restack his paperwork correctly.

"So, everyone, it's goodbye for now!" And Ed left the room with a broad grin and a wave, strutting through the corridors like someone with someplace to finally go.

There was a prolonged moment of silence, before Fuery said uncertainly, "That was... sudden."

Breda nodded.

"Well, I said I'd drive nii-san to Rosefields, so I suppose I'd better be going," Al said as he gathered his coat from the coat rack.

"Don't crash the car, Alphonse. It's a military car, and you're still on your provisional license. I don't want to have to pay for another trashed vehicle," Roy warned jokingly.

Al laughed. "I'll try not to, Mr. Mustang." And with that, he exited with a small wave, shutting the door to behind him.

There was a brief pause, then Breda asked to no one in particular, "Alphonse took the driving test? Or is he still waiting to take it?"

"He passed last week," Falman murmured from behind the books he was reorganising.

"Why didn't I hear about this?" Breda asked accusatorily.

Havoc snorted. "You were at Christino's down the road having lunch when Alphonse came and told us."

Breda scowled.

"Well, I wish Edward the best of luck." Riza spoke up for the first time, an almost untraceable smile on her face.

"Me too," Havoc stated firmly, grinning at the door.

There was a collective, unspoken agreement throughout the room that this would be interesting course of events, for better or worse.

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><p><strong>Lunaaaaaaaaa~ :D<strong>

**Yes, Al can drive. Because I say he can :3 (Don't forget, he's seventeen in this fic.)**

**Look, quick update! Doesn't that deserve a review? *Sparkly eyes***


	10. Nine: New Faces

**So sorry for the long wait. But I have an extra fluffy chapter just to make up for it. xD**

**Y'know, I've just realised that I didn't use a single divider in the whole chapter. O_o**

**Disclaimer~**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine - New Faces<strong>

Ed stayed standing in front of the glass double doors long after his brother had reversed awkwardly out of the car park with a wave and had begun his illegal drive back home.

Ed wasn't quite sure just how long he'd been standing there, gazing with glazed eyes at his soon-to-be official residence. He'd talked to Mustang over the phone, and convinced him to pull some strings to keep Ed's place of residence a secret, known only by Mustang's team and the Fuhrer. To the rest of the world, he was on a relaxing holiday somewhere very far away. He was eternally grateful for that, though he'd never admit it.

Although there was a small, childish part of him that wished he really _was_ on an idyllic island somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

Ed braced himself, swatting the thoughts away, and sucked in a deep breath as he slowly pushed open the door to greet the familiar-looking receptionist.

She (Ed vaguely remembered her name was Elizabeth) blinked at him oddly, before glancing down at Dr. Anderson's schedule. "I'm sorry, Mr. Elric, but you don't seem to have an appointment..."she trailed off in confusion.

Ed grinned widely. "No, I don't. I'm here to stay this time."

Elizabeth's eyes widened momentarily, before she composed herself and began to rummage through the litter on her desk. "In which case, you should probably check in with Dr. Anderson himself. He'll show you where everything is, which room you're staying in, etc." Elizabeth gave Ed another thoroughly confused glance, wondering just how dangerous a deranged State Alchemist could be, before gesturing towards the corridor. _The correct one this time_, Ed noticed with a smirk.

"Thanks," Ed bowed slightly before swinging his suitcase over his shoulder, his other hand in his leather pocket, humming something he remembered Breda singing once. He wasn't quite sure why he was in a good mood, especially considering he was checking himself into a mental ward, but he supposed it was the mood swings again and brushed it off.

He reached the office within fifteen minutes, rapping lightly on the door before inviting himself in. "Yo," he greeted with a mock salute.

Dr. Anderson chuckled. "You're late."

"Yeah, I always am. Get used to it," Ed said teasingly, flopping down into a chair opposite Anderson.

Dr. Anderson raised an eyebrow, obviously quite amused at Ed's vibrant spectrum of available moods. Last time Ed had come here, he'd looked like he'd rather be modelling for a swimsuit company than be talking to Dr. Anderson. Now, however, he looked like he hadn't a care in the world. _Yes_, Dr. Anderson thought, _it might not be obvious, but there is a lot to work on with this boy._ "Are you ready for your permanent stay here?"

Ed grinned dangerously. "Show me the way, Doctor."

Anderson smirked. He stood up, gathering his paperwork into a folder and motioned for Ed to follow him to the door. "This is my office, obviously, and it seems you already know where it is, so I won't bother giving you directions on how to get here. That," he motioned to the door opposite the office, "is the store cupboard. Please don't confuse it with the bathroom like lots of other people here. _That_ is the bathroom," he said, pointing at an identical door next to it.

Ed nodded, mentally absorbing the information while trying not to snigger.

They walked briskly down the corridor, fast enough that Ed almost had to jog to keep up. "These rooms all along this corridor are patient rooms. Please don't enter them without the patient's permission. This," he gestured vaguely at the corridor surrounding them, "is Ward One. There are twenty wards in total here. You'll be placed in the one that best suits your condition."

Ed raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. There were so many ill people in Central that they had _twenty_ wards? _Then again_, Ed thought, recalling some trivia he'd heard Al spout on the journey here, _I think this is the only mental hospital in Amestris, so I guess it's not surprising_.

He nodded to himself slightly, before a far more interesting question slithered into his head, leaving him with a strangely giddy sense of curiosity. "What's _my_ 'condition'?"

"You'll be with the PTSDs, since you don't fit anywhere else."

Ed nodded slightly. At least he'd be with some other soldiers who wouldn't make fun of him. "Which ward is that?"

"Ward Seventeen."

Ed smirked. He liked the number seventeen. Why? Because Al's seventeenth birthday had been the funniest birthday he'd ever experienced. Not to go into too much detail, but... Well, let's just say it involved lots of (not quite legal) alcohol and a _very_ angry cat.

Dr. Anderson gave him a quick tour of the rest of the building, showing him two more bathrooms, the rest of the wards, the games room, the canteen, the small field (equipped with a well-kept herb garden), the basketball court and the 'main' room - a room on the second floor somewhat resembling a ballroom in size, though with sofas, a TV and various bookshelves, a table tennis set and a large coffee table. It had an oddly homey feeling to it.

Ed was led straight through the main room, however, and up a well-concealed spiral staircase. "Where are we going?"

Anderson shot Ed a smirk. "You'll be wanting somewhere to put that luggage of yours, correct?"

Ed's mouth opened in a silent, 'Oh' as he quickly leapt up the staircase after the fast-moving doctor, taking the steps two at a time.

He was shown a corridor he supposed was Ward Seventeen, and a small metal object was thrust into his hand. "Here's the key. Your room is Room 108. I trust you can find it from here?"

Ed nodded. "Thanks, Doc."

Dr. Anderson raised an eyebrow at the nickname, though didn't mention it as he began to stride away, white coat flapping in his wake.

Ed scowled. Anderson was wearing a lab coat this time. Not a good sign.

Only after the doctor's back had turned the corner and his white entrails had vanished from sight did Ed relax. He turned to face the looming (and scarily clean) corridor ahead of him, swinging his key around his finger. He wandered slowly down the straight, narrow path, intent on finding his designated room, and inspected every plaque on every door. _101, 102, 103, 104, 105_... The eighth door down provided him with the necessary number, _108_, embossed in shiny red. _Huh_,_ I thought it would be silver or black like the ones in other wards,_ Ed thought idly as he fumbled with his key. _Maybe they're colour coded or something._

Eventually, Ed managed to slot the key into the keyhole and push open the door, which gave way rather easily; Ed had been expecting thick metal doors to keep everyone locked in, but they were just flimsy sheets of pine. He quietly shut the door behind him, not wanting to disturb anyone nearby who might have a strange sleeping schedule.

He glanced around, taking in the cream walls, the slightly cracked white ceiling and the sparse furniture. The small room contained only a single bed, a writing desk and a wardrobe, a dented rubbish bin hiding itself behind an armchair.

Ed let out a breath silently. _Home, sweet home._

To be perfectly honest, Ed had expected something resembling a padded cell with water fed to him through a tube in his arm just in case he tried to drown himself. Apparently, though, they trusted him enough to give him decent living quarters.

_I'll bet not everyone's room looks like this, though,_ Ed thought, dumping his battered brown leather suitcase onto his bed and beginning to unload his few belongings. _Some people in here must be real nutcases - they probably _do_ live in a padded cell._

But apparently, PTSDs weren't considered crazy enough to be taken away from everything and anything harmful, a fact Ed suddenly found himself incredibly thankful for.

Ed finished hanging up his spare clothes, and carefully extracted a photo frame. He held it carefully, as if one rough touch might break it, and stared at the picture of Al for a moment with a tentative smile on his face before placing it gently down on the mahogany writing desk. He usually wasn't one for sentimental things, but people often told him that where his brother was concerned, it was almost as if he was a different person. This, apparently, was one such case.

His suitcase was soon empty, as he'd never been one for excessive packing and preferred to travel light, so Ed soon found himself with nothing to do. Since the doctor hadn't tried to arrange any appointments or checkups or the like, Ed supposed he was free to do as he liked.

He had his hand on the doorknob as a thought suddenly occurred to him. He glanced down at his attire. _Leather probably isn't the best thing to be wandering around here in._

Reluctantly, he stripped the tight black clothes off his tanned skin and instead dressed in a loose white vest and grey tracksuit bottoms, clothes he used to wear wandering around the dorm with Al when his usual outfit was dirty or in need of mending.

He snorted at the idea of how ridiculous he's look wearing his leather boots around with the rest of the outfit, and, as they were his only pair of footwear, decided to go barefoot. This was a hospital of sorts, after all, so he doubted the floor would be dirty or have sharp objects lying around on it.

He grimaced as a brief glance in the mirror showed him just how much younger he looked, but dismissed it and briskly strode out the small room, shutting the door quietly behind him and trying in vain to remember the way to the main room.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. He'd never been great with directions - that'd always been Al's forte - and now he found himself in a huge, three-storey building looking for a single room that could be _anywhere_.

He briefly considered going to reception and asking Liz where it was, but his face stretched into a scowl as he realised he didn't know how to get to reception either. He didn't even know which floor he was on.

_Well_, he thought gruffly,_ I'm never gonna get anywhere if I just stand around here looking like a moron._

And so Ed turned left, as he remembered coming from that direction when the doctor had shown him around. He stalked down three corridors and down a flight of stairs, his automail clicking eerily on the white linoleum in the empty corridors. _I wonder why no one's around?_ he idly thought to himself. _Maybe they're all outside. It _is_ quite sunny, after all._

It was only when he found himself at the foot of the staircase he swore he'd gone down fifteen minutes ago that he gave up. He groaned loudly, collapsing and slouching grumpily on the ground, his back to the wall just below a dazzling window and his legs drawn up to his chest. He rested his chin on his knees, scowling ferociously and glaring intensely at the bottom step of the stairs in front of him.

"Stupid building with too many stupid fucking stairs," he grumbled to himself.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there cursing the identical corridors, but by the time he heard any sign of life his neck was stiff and his legs were cramping. He lifted his head from his knees, wincing as his neck clicked harshly, and glanced around at the seemingly empty corridor. He grew more and more wary as the seconds ticked by. The shuffling and muffled clomping was growing louder, but he had yet to see any sign of movement. His muscles tensed and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His breathing grew deeper and his eyes began to widen slightly as the panic set in. A small part of him buried deep, deep down knew that he had no reason to worry - just because this was what usually happened when the Madman came, it didn't mean the Madman was here right now. He wasn't. He couldn't be. He was gone. Gone, gone, _gone_-

Ed cut his own thoughts off with a harsh shriek as a glowing rainbow streaked past him with a high-pitched whistle. He jumped out of his skin, gracelessly lurching to his feet and automatically tensing into a fighting stance.

The multi-coloured thing had come to a halt ten feet away, and was now sitting up on the pristine floor with its back to Ed, staring in the opposite direction.

It giggled quietly to itself, before standing up and attempting to regain its balance.

Ed's guard dropped as soon as he realised it was only a girl; probably a patient. The messy blonde hair tumbling down her back and the odd patchwork skirt gave her away, as well as the childishly feminine face that greeted him with wide blue eyes as she turned around. "Oh... it's you."

Luna's eyes widened in recognition. "You're the man with the pretty hair from before."

Ed, still in a mild state of panic, blinked twice before he remembered the event in Anderson's office the previous day. "Uh, yeah."

Luna trotted up to him, extending a small hand and smiling as if she was high. Ed wondered if she was. "Luna Lovegood. What's your name?"

Ed hesitantly took the proffered hand with his automail one. "Ed. Edward Elric."

"It's nice to meet you," Luna said, giggling. She seemed to suddenly notice the lack of warmth in her hand and glanced down, her mouth opening in a silent, 'Oh' as she took in the metal skin. "You have automail."

"Uh, yeah, I noticed."

Luna didn't reply; instead, she drew Ed's hand up to her face and began inspecting the artificial limb. She prodded it with her nose before sniffing it and drawing back, a somewhat satisfied expression on her girlish features. "I like it."

Ed blinked. Out of all the possible reactions to his automail, that must've been the one he was least expecting. "You do?"

Luna nodded cheerfully. "It suits you. Like your hair. And that eye patch."

Ed tilted his head to the side slightly, a bewildered expression on is face. "Thank you... I guess?"

Luna smiled broadly. "You know what? I bet you're lost." She tugged on the hand she was still holding on to. "Come on, I'll show you the way outside."

Ed didn't have time to protest before he was being dragged down the straight corridor. He decided that it was a win-win situation either way; if Luna really knew the way outside then hurray for him. If not, then at least he'd get lost with someone else rather than driving himself insane (almost literally) wandering around endless corridors by himself.

"So," he began, striking up a conversation, "how old are you?"

"Fifteen," she sang. "What about you?"

"Eighteen," he said thoughtfully. "Are you allowed here?"

Luna turned to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you aren't legally an adult, so did you have to get someone's permission to stay here alone?"

Luna turned again to face the direction they were walking. "No. I arrived here on my own, so there wasn't anyone to ask the permission of."

Ed gave the back of her head a wary glance before asking, knowing he might be treading in dangerous waters, "What about your parents?"

Luna sighed, though it didn't seem to be particularly sad. "My mother died when I was little. My father is still back home."

Ed paused before saying quietly, "Home?"

Luna nodded, not glancing back. "My own world."

Ed stopped in his tracks. "Your _world_?"

Luna halted too, swirling around to face Ed. "Yes, my world. A world other than this. A world with magic in it, not alchemy."

Ed shot her an incredulous look. No wonder she was institutionalised. "Are you sure?"

Luna nodded defiantly. "For definite. One moment I was arguing with the frying pan because it was refusing to make breakfast, and the next I was waking up in the middle of a farm in the countryside. No one knew where Hogwarts was, or even England. They didn't even know magic existed. It was quite scary, suddenly finding myself in a world full of muggles with no way to get home."

Despite himself, Ed found himself feeling sympathetic towards the girl. No matter how many times he told himself she was just insane and her father was probably living happily in Central, he couldn't bring himself to scoff at her words. Perhaps it was the real feeling she held behind them that made even a sceptic like Ed believe her, but Ed just couldn't seem to help the fact that her explanation didn't sound quite as laughable as it should have.

"Hey, Luna..." Ed asked as they continued their journey outside. "What's a 'muggle'?"

Luna giggled. "Non-magical people. Like you. Although I suppose alchemy could be seen as this world's version of magic. They have similar effects. Are you an alchemist?"

Ed smirked. "Definitely."

"Then I suppose you're a wizard of sorts."

Ed snorted.

The rest of the short walk to the outside world was trodden in silence, though it was far from uncomfortable. Ed was lost in thoughts of imaginary words where magic really did exist, and who knew what Luna was thinking about?

"We're here," Luna said eventually, turning to face Ed just behind her before pointing to a glass door not unlike the one at the main entrance. She pulled him through it, and the pair was immediately assaulted by the blaring sunlight. It reminded Ed vaguely of hot summer days in Resembool.

He smiled at the grassy field full of what he assumed must be patients. They were chasing each other around and laughing like kids. There were five playing a sloppy version of basketball on the tattered grey court to his left, too. Just as he was about to make a witty remark about the weather, his hand was yanked again by the dirty blonde girl holding it. She tugged him towards a wooden bench sheltered by a weeping willow fifty metres away, almost completely concealed from view.

"Wow," Ed breathed as he swept away the leaves caressing his skin, allowing him entrance to the small paradise. It felt as if the sound of the patients playing outside was oddly hushed in here, as if they were listening through a bubble. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the place, but Ed found himself strangely relaxed as Luna guided him over to sit on the bench. "Wow..." he repeated.

Luna laughed softly. "I love this place. I spend most of my time here. Sometimes, I sneak out of my window at night to come here and I fall asleep."

Ed chuckled at her oddity. "I can see why. I almost feel like falling asleep here."

Luna nodded, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. "Do you like it here, Ed?"

Ed let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah. It's so much more peaceful than back in Central."

Luna smiled, her eyes still shut. "You are in Central, silly."

Ed blinked. He'd almost forgotten. He _was_ in Central. Still. But somehow this place just seemed so detached from the rest of the world... it was almost as if he really wasn't in Central anymore. He snorted in spite of himself. "I guess... I forgot."

Luna giggled. "It's easy to forget here, isn't it?"

Ed smiled thoughtfully as he leant his head back, staring up distantly into the canopy of greenery above his face. "Yeah."

Ed didn't notice his eyelids slip shut, or Luna's breathing even out as her head lolled to the side, dropping to rest on Ed's bony shoulder.


	11. Ten: Automail or Not?

**Hello~ So I haven't posted in ages. It was my birthday, then I got distracted by shiny objects, and now it's the week of my finals... so please forgive me. xD**

**Disclaimer~**

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten - Automail or Not?<strong>

Ed awoke to a painful ache in his right leg. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he tried to move said leg and the old injury flared to life again, feeling as if the flesh was being seared off the flaming bone.

Being careful not to wake Luna, he stood on his one good leg, using one arm for balance and the other to lie the girl gently down on the bench, before lifting her legs onto the wood so she was lying horizontally. With a silent apology, he began the slow and painful process of limping back towards the building that suddenly seemed so far away.

He'd been so wrapped up in this whole 'Rosefields' business that he'd almost forgotten about the injury. And that was saying something, because it's really rather difficult to forget the sight of a bone jutting out of your skin.

For the first time since the surgery, the wound was hurting. Not that he hadn't expected it to, but he'd sort of left the thought lying around in his head, and he just happened to trip over it today.

_Or tonight_, he thought to himself as he stumbled into a bush that he swore wasn't there under daylight.

As he reached the threshold he briefly considered just going back to his room and bearing the pain until it was an acceptable time to call someone, but two more agonising steps had him convinced that it couldn't wait till morning.

He limped into the building through the back door, and, noticing the receptionist was still awake, decided that with a very painful leg was _not_ the best time to wander around looking for something. "Liz?"

It took her a few seconds to answer as she blinked sleep away. "Huh?"

"Do you know where the phone is?"

"Uh..." She scrubbed a hand over her face as she thought, and when she spoke her voice was slurred with sleep. "I think there's one somewhere... But it's somewhere on the third floor, I think. I don't know where."

Ed groaned. "Isn't there one closer?"  
>"Well," Liz glanced at him guiltily, "I have one on the desk here, but it's the official line so I'm not supposed to let patients use it..."<p>

"Please?" Ed whined, trying his best I'm-a-cute-little-boy look that he'd learned from Al.

Liz sucked in a deep breath in tense consideration for a moment before letting it all out in a gruff sigh and pushing the phone towards the edge of the desk where Ed was leaning.

Ed shot her a grateful grin as he punched the numbers in and lifted the receiver to his ear as he waited for the familiar voice to greet him.

The phone was picked up on the eleventh ring. "_Mm... Hello?_"

"Hi, Winry."

"_... Ed?_"

"Yeah, it's me."

There was a crackly sound on the other end which Ed strongly suspected was an annoyed sigh. "_Can't this wait until tomorrow? It's, like, _four in the morning_._"

Ed chuckled sheepishly, before wincing as his right leg took more of his weight. "Not really. You know I wouldn't call you in the middle of the night if it wasn't urgent."

Winry yawned. "_Right. Where are you?_"

"Uh, Rosefields."

"_... Oh, right._" Winry yawned again, proving the unspoken point that she was still half asleep. "_Should I call Al and get him to drive me over, or can you wait for me to get the bus?_"

"The bus is fine. I don't wanna disturb Al."

"_You were fine with disturbing _me_,_" Winry was swift to point out.

Ed chuckled nervously before quickly blurting, "Okay thanks see you soon bye," and slamming the receiver down as if his life depended on it.

Which it possibly did, depending how good Winry's dream had been when Ed had woken her up.

Ed nodded his thanks once again to Liz as he limped into a nearby chair usually reserved for visitors. He slumped into its welcoming padded depths with a deep sigh. Not having any weight on his leg really did help.

Ed shifted slightly to get comfortable. He really needed Winry's opinion on what to do about his leg. It was likely that this pain would be a recurring thing, so if he just left it as it was, there was no way he could go back to the military after he got out of this place. Sure, he didn't particularly like the place, but it was solid income and he had friends there. And besides, if Ed got a desk job he wasn't sure he'd be able to survive. He needed to be _doing_ something; always, doing something just to feel alive.

Therefore staying in the military was rather high on his to-do list; getting _yet more_ automail wasn't. Which he would probably have to do to keep his job.

Ed rubbed his temple with a quiet groan. _Too much thinking for so late at night._

He waited another ten minutes in the blue padded chair, staring out of the double glass doors and talking amiably to Liz, if only to keep her awake. Without any weight on it, the pain in his leg had reduced to a dull throb in sync with his heartbeat, which was thankfully slow.

Unfortunately, thinking about how mad Winry would be when she arrived, fully awake and wrench-bearing, only served to speed it up.

Luckily (on unluckily, depending on how you look at it), Ed wasn't give much time to ponder the thought as an obviously irritated blonde strode into the building, her two-inch heels clacking far too loudly on the linoleum flooring.

"What is it this time?" she grumbled irritably as she came to a halt directly in front of Ed.

Ed grinned sheepishly and pointed at his right leg. "It feels like it's on fire."

Winry was not amused. "And _why_, exactly, did you call _me_ about this?"

Ed shrugged. "Need your advice on it."

Winry rolled her eyes with a growl of a sigh, though she settled into the seat beside Ed regardless. "In case you've forgotten, it was my parents who were the doctors, not me. I only know the absolute basics, and even those are mostly automail-related."

"Well then you can help me," Ed said quietly, not wanting to wake up Liz, who had finally succumbed to sleep with her head buried in paperwork.

Winry rose an eyebrow. "What does your _right_ leg have to do with automail?"

Ed chuckled nervously. "Possibly a lot."

Winry deigned not to say anything, instead waiting for Ed to explain what the hell he was on about.

Ed sucked in a deep breath. "Well," he started, "you remember all those injuries I had, right?"

Winry nodded slowly, still not quite sure where this was going.

"You remember the injury in this leg?" He gestured to his right leg. "The tibia was broken, sticking up out of my leg, and the fibula was completely smashed up."

Winry pulled a slight face at the gory memory, but nodded agreeably. "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"Well it's hurting like fire. Y'know, everyone at the office was always going on about some old wound or another flaring up. I just used to think they were wimps because none of my wounds ever really hurt - well, except the ports, but that's different - but I think this one is. Flaring up, I mean. When I stand on it, it hurts nearly as badly as when you attach new limbs, which is damn right saying something. If it's flaring up now, I figured it was likely that it would flare up again, and I can't just wander back into the military if my leg decides to kill me to death every week or so."

Winry nodded, a hint of understanding tinting her cheeks a shade of pale. "So...?"

"So," Ed paused, as if he was struggling to get the words out, "I was just wondering about getting more automail."

The pale tint to Winry's cheeks quickly blossomed, painting them an unnerving shade of white. "But..." she said slowly and quietly, "you were always saying how much you wanted to get _out_ of the military. Why would you be willing to get _even more_ automail for the sake of a job you hate?"

Ed smiled awkwardly. "It's Al's and my only source of income, and it's a pretty fucking big income. Not to mention that if I got a job where I just sit around doing mundane, brain-numbing things all day I don't think I could survive. At least the military always has me moving, always has me doing something. Something worthwhile, something that can make a difference." Ed shrugged casually. "I guess I've just warmed up to it a bit, is all."

Winry let out a chuckle of almost disbelief. "More than a bit, I'd say."

Ed shot her a playful scowl, to which she smiled. "So? Do you think I should?"

The blonde let out a humming noise of thought. "Well, you'd definitely be able to handle it. I mean, there are some people out there who can't even handle _one_ automail surgery, let alone three, but you're not one of them.

"As for the other elements... Well, from a medical point of view, it would make sense. No nerves were permanently damaged, so it shouldn't be a problem getting the automail to work - well, the nerves were _supposed_ to be permanently damaged, but they're not now, so that's irrelevant - and having two automail legs isn't different from having one automail leg, I suppose. There's far less grip on the floor when you walk barefoot, of course, as you don't have the flesh foot to help push you forward, but I'm working on that right now. It would just eradicate the problem of the injury, turning it into a different kind of injury which is under medical control. You'd be able to join the military again no problem - though you might have to take a year off for recovery - and you'd get to keep earning all that stupid money."

Winry smiled; when Ed looked up to meet her gaze, it was surprisingly warm. "The only real question is whether you want to."

Ed blinked in consideration. _So everything's a-okay on the practical front, eh...? Well, damn._ Ed sighed. "I think..."

Winry tilted her head fractionally to the side in a silent prompt when Ed didn't continue.

Ed drew in a shaky, deep breath. "I think I will. I'll get the automail." He chuckled nervously. "It would be better than this in the long run."

Winry smiled and nodded, despite the mild surprise glowing in her cerulean eyes. "Then I'm sure I can arrange something with Granny." She giggled at Ed's puzzled expression. "I haven't performed a solo automail surgery yet."

"It'll be just like old times then, eh?" Ed suggested morbidly.

Winry snorted in a most unfeminine way. "I'll call you sometime this afternoon, after I've caught up the past hour's sleep I've missed."

Ed nodded gratefully. "Yeah. Thanks."

Winry rolled her eyes, batting Ed playfully (though rather painfully) on the side of the head. "Don't thank me, idiot. It's my job. Just don't change your mind halfway through the surgery, okay?"

Ed laughed, nodding as she grinned. "Talk to you this afternoon, then?"

Winry nodded, rising from her seat as she stifled a yawn. "Yep. Bye, Ed."

Ed waved lazily after her as she exited. He glanced at the clock. Its hands, barely visible in the dim light, told Ed it had been just over an hour since he'd woken up on the bench, and Ed grimaced. He should really get to bed, but he didn't think his leg could make it.

He pressed his right foot down onto the linoleum to test, but even a tiny amount of pressure on his foot caused him to hiss under his breath. _Nope_, he thought sourly. _Looks like I'm sleeping here tonight_.

* * *

><p>Ed groaned under his breath as he blinked languidly, eyelids weighed down by the aftertaste of sleep. He wondered blearily why he could see blurry trees and some strange white lines, but before his sleepy brain could puzzle it out a breathy voice spoke from beside him.<p>

"Oh, you're awake."

Ed blinked more energetically, and the white doorframe surrounding the transparent glass doors came into focus. He turned his head to the side, wincing as his neck cracked, and came face-to-face with Luna. "Luna...?" he questioned gruffly, his voice husky from sleep. "What're you doing here?"

A mildly confused expression flitted across her face for a moment before it scrunched up in a giggle. "Looking for you, silly."

Ed raised a baffled eyebrow.

"I woke up outside and I wondered if you'd gone inside because you were cold, so I came inside after you. I found you here." She paused, considering him for a moment. "You look very uncomfortable, by the way."

"Mm." Ed couldn't find it in himself to conjure a more solid response, instead deciding to nod his head until his neck cracked again. He stretched his arms above his head, sighing in contentment as his left elbow clicked and his right arm began softly whirring. He almost stretched out his legs, too, before he remembered why he was sleeping on a chair in the lobby in the first place. He winced as wakefulness brought back the dull throb. "Ow..." he mumbled.

Luna blinked in concern. "You're hurt?"

Ed nodded, wincing. "Old injury. Well, it's not really that old, but it woke me up last night like it was trying to tear my leg off. I came inside to call a friend and it was hurting so much I couldn't walk up to my room, so..."

Luna hummed in sympathy. (Though it might've been curiosity; Ed wasn't quite sure.) "Do you want some help getting up?"

Ed was about to protest - he always hated seeming helpless - but he realised that he must've already looked pretty pathetic, so he reluctantly consented, letting Luna loop her arm under his left armpit and hoist him into a standing position.

He winced at the pain, though with someone to share his body weight it was remarkably more bearable.

He glanced down at his feet, wondering absently if his leg actually was on fire - but all he was greeted with was a pair of light grey jogging bottoms, a tanned foot curled over in pain and a grey prosthetic winking at him with rays of reflected sunlight.

_Wait, sunlight...?_ "Luna?" Ed started as the pair began to limp towards a staircase.

"Mm?" she hummed in response.

"What time is it?"

"About eleven o'clock."

Ed snapped his head around to look at her. "_Eleven_?"

Luna giggled. "Yes, eleven. Why? Were you sleeping in that chair for a long time?"

Ed nodded. "Since about five, I think."

Luna smiled. "You're strange."

Ed blinked in shock. "What - How?" he asked, taken aback.

Luna shot him a knowing sideways glance. "You fell asleep in a chair for six hours, for starters." She giggled. "You also have an eye patch, you're the same height as me even though you're eighteen-" Ed squeaked- "you have two automail limbs and your hair is longer than mine, even though you're male. You also seem to have lots of wounds, and you're very, very thin." She paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye with an unreadable expression on her round face. "And you seem to like talking to me."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "That makes me strange?"

Luna nodded, turning to face forward again in order to focus on getting Ed successfully up the stairs. "No one else really talks to me. Except the doctor and Matthew, but the doctor isn't my friend and I don't like Matthew."

Ed drank all the information in. No matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't see a reason why people wouldn't talk to Luna. Sure, she was a little out of it and believed she was from a different world - but that just made her interesting.

Luna shot Ed a small smile, tugging him sharply back into reality as she murmured, "But I like you."

Ed's eyes widened as he desperately tried to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks, but with his face only inches away from Luna's it was near impossible. Instead he opted for dipping his head, hoping his hair would shield the blush from view.

Apparently, though, it didn't work, as he could hear stifled giggles from beside him.

_Fuck_, Ed thought, _does this girl _always_ just say whatever's on her mind?_

Luna smiled dreamily at him, though she had a certain sharpness in her gaze that suggested she was more than just a crazy inmate.

Ed wasn't quite sure what drove him to it, but before he even realised what was happening the words slipped off his tongue and he murmured, "You're strange too."

Luna's smile lit up her face as her steadying grip around his side tightened. It was as if some silent exchange had been passed between them; that phrase, instead of being something people used to accidentally insult Ed on the street, was now a gesture of friendship.

Ed smiled to himself as he vowed that 'strange' was now his all-time favourite word.

* * *

><p>"Here," Luna sang as she wavered unsteadily in front of Ed's door. "Room 108. You know, my great-grandfather died when he was 108."<p>

"Uh," Ed raised an eyebrow, unsure how to reply as he said hesitantly, "okay."

But Luna turned to him and smiled, and Ed realised she was simply stating another bizarre fact, something she'd spent the last forty-five minutes doing as they trailed around the building looking for Ed's room. (It had turned out that Luna didn't know where the PTSD rooms were, either.)

Ed fumbled around in his pocket for the key, quickly unlocking the door and pushing it open with his left arm, his right slung over Luna's shoulder for support.

They stepped inside the drab room and Luna gently kicked the door shut behind them. She helped Ed hobble over to the bed, where he immediately collapsed with a dramatic sigh of relief.

"Thanks," Ed breathed as he relished the feeling of only slight discomfort.

Luna tipped her head to the side. "You're welcome. Besides, the doctor would probably have made me go to another therapy session if he'd found me wandering about with nothing to do." Luna giggled as if this was a normal occurrence.

Ed raised an eyebrow, but didn't question her reluctance to go to therapy sessions. Luckily, he hadn't had to attend one yet, but he knew that the time would come when he'd have to sit down on an uncomfortable chair and spill his innermost feelings to a total stranger.

Hopefully that stranger wouldn't be Anderson.

* * *

><p>Anderson sighed as he gazed out of his office window. The blue pen he twiddled in his fingers was dropped to the paper out of laziness, causing a spot of ink to dribble into the page. <em>Oh well<em>, he thought irritably, _it was only some accounting form anyway._

His brow knitted together in frustration as he considered the bleak grey sky. _It had been so sunny yesterday, too..._ But it seemed pathetic fallacy was making its mark yet again as raging thunder could be heard belting out its battle cry on the other side of the glass. Anderson sighed gruffly in sympathy for the storm. Though he was, admittedly, slightly jealous... at least the storm had the power to unleash its anger every once in a while.

Anderson promptly dropped his head onto his desk with a muted thud. He'd been running a mental hospital too long - he was beginning to lose his _own _sanity. _Honestly... First I talk to myself, then I talk to my work, and now I'm getting jealous of the weather._

He slowly lifted his head off the desk, not bothering to readjust his glasses. _I feel so _pathetic_ here... _he thought with anguish. _Although... _he thought slowly as a feral smirk spread over his ugly, wrinkled features.

* * *

><p><strong>Please excuse the insanity and suden subject changes. I was in the middle of Maths revision during most of this xD<strong>


	12. Eleven: Just Another Limb

**Hey. Yes, I am finally updating this story! I will not give up, despite horrible author's block! I am really, really, really, really sorry it took so long. It's the summer holidays where I am, so I've had quite a bit of time recently to catch up.**

**This is unbeta'd, by the way ('cause I knew how much people would kill me if they knew I had this done for days without uploading it) so sorry for mistakes x);;**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven - Just Another Limb<strong>

Luna had stayed with him for the next few hours. Apparently, she had nothing better to do than ferry meals, medicine and the like from the canteen to Ed's room. This still continued to be her excuse for staying, even after the pair's conversation had been rudely interrupted by a male nurse calling for her, claiming she was late for her therapy session and that she should visit Anderson in his office immediately.

She'd been reluctant to leave, and Ed (not being the type to care about rules and obedience anyway) had shoved her underneath his bed covers, answered the door when Nathan knocked and spouted something about not seeing her since the previous day, before promptly slamming the door in his face.

... Which led to the current scene in which Luna was curled up, fast asleep, in Ed's bed and Ed was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, munching on the semi-warm spaghetti Luna had retrieved for him from the canteen.

One glance at the clock, however, sent Ed into a fit. "_Shit_!" he hissed under his breath. It was six o'clock in the evening; he should have called Winry hours ago. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." he chanted under his breath like a mantra and he attempted to launch himself into a standing position without screaming. He needed to get downstairs to that phone. _Now_.

... Unfortunately, he needed Luna for that.

He turned slowly, resting his gaze upon the sleeping girl currently occupying his bed space. The thought sent the blood gushing to his face, even if she _was_ fully-clothed, and he swore violently under his breath, as if to scare the blush away before she woke up. _God knows I've made enough noise to wake her up already._

"Nngh..." Luna grunted softly as she shifted, and Ed's thoughts flew into a panic. "Ed...?"

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu- _"Y-yeah?"

Luna dragged herself up into a sitting position, absently rubbing a half-lidded eye. "How long..." A cute yawn. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About three h-hours," Ed mumbled. "Sorry, I think I woke you up..."

Luna giggled quietly, smiling as she pulled herself into a proper sitting position. "No, don't worry about it. I was having a bizarre dream anyway."

Ed raised an eyebrow. "Bizarre?"  
>"I was stuck in Switzerland and no matter how far I travelled, I couldn't see the sea... It was very odd."<p>

Ed's expression grew into one of total puzzlement. "'Switzerland?'"

Luna blinked in sleepy confusion before it dawned on her. She giggled again, louder this time. "Switzerland is a country in the world I came from. It's a bit like Amestris, actually. It's small and landlocked..."

Ed shook off the confusing thoughts as Luna continued to whisper to herself about her home world and various non-existent countries.

"Luna..."

Said blonde's head snapped up, and her body swayed a little from the sudden movement. "Yes?"

"I kind of need to phone someone," Ed murmured, embarrassed. "And... I can't-"

"Get downstairs?" Luna finished for him, an amused smile blossoming on her pale face. "Okay." She swung her legs out from under the covers and smoothly stood up, looping an arm under Ed's and pulling him into a more stable position.

There was an audible sigh of relief from the boy. "Thanks," he muttered hesitantly, unused to thanking people.

Luna smiled warmly. "That's okay."

* * *

><p>"Winry?"<p>

The voice on the other end of the line sounded considerably annoyed. "_I told you to call me this _afternoon_, Ed. Not _half past six." Winry sighed. "_Never mind. Better late than never. Do you want us to come over there now?_"

Ed blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"_We happened to have a knee-down leg in storage - there was some moron who said he wanted automail then decided that 'a wheelchair is cheaper' - so we don't need to make a new one. Granny and I can come over there now if you want._"

Ed couldn't find words to say. It was one thing planning in advance to get automail; it was another to have someone tell you that you could be getting it that very day. "Uh..."

"_Is that a no?_"

Ed shook his head, despite the fact that there was no possible way for his friend to see it. "No... I mean yes, come over as soon as possible. I think they have a sterile room here somewhere..." Ed covered the phone's mouthpiece and called over to Liz. "Hey, Liz, do we have an operating theatre in this building?"

She nodded, looking extremely perplexed at the phone conversation currently taking place in front of her. "Yeah... Just in case, you know. Why?"

Ed didn't answer, returning his attention to the girl on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, they do."

"_Okay. I'll be there in an hour or two. Don't lose your left arm before I get there._"

"Oh ha ha."

"_Bye, Ed._"

"Bye."

The receiver was promptly dropped back into its holder with a shaky huff.

"What's going on?" Luna asked dreamily from beside him.

Ed closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, gathering his thoughts and making sure he really wanted to do this before spurting the news all over his temporary home. With a determined sigh, his eyes opened and he turned to face his friend. "I'm getting more automail."

Luna's big blue eyes widened dramatically, making her look like a goldfish. A few metres away, her expression was mirrored by Liz, but Ed didn't notice. "Your leg?"

"Mm-hm." Ed nodded.

Luna cast her gaze to the injured leg, the muscles clenched tight even now from the pain. There was a horrible scar about six inches long and two inches wide ripping through the front of the leg, and the bone hadn't been set in a completely straight line, leaving it awkward to walk on, even if there hadn't been excruciating pain whenever Ed tried to do so.

Luna nodded, lifting her head up and returning Ed's worried gaze. "Okay."

"_Okay?_" Liz squeaked. "That's the _third_ set of automail! He'll only have _one_ original limb left, and he's only eighteen! You call that '_okay'_?"

Ed sighed gruffly, wincing slightly as he turned to face the near-hysterical nurse. "It's my decision, Liz. Believe me, if you were in my situation, you'd get the automail too."

"... I-I'm just going... to tell Dr. Anderson." Liz quickly vanished up the nearby staircase, leaving the doors swinging wildly in her wake.

Ed sighed again.

"Don't listen to her, Ed," Luna whispered. "She's just surprised."

Ed snorted. "That's an understatement."

There was a gentle tug on Ed's right arm, and Ed silently complied as Luna began to lead him back up to his room to wait.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure-"<p>

"I'll be _fine_, Luna," Ed reassured her for the hundredth time, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I've done this before, and so have Winry and Granny. Everything will be absolutely fine."

Luna was still wringing her hands and biting her lip, but she nodded anyway.

"Ed! Get in here!" Winry's voice rang out harshly down the quiet corridor, and Ed flinched.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there, Win." Ed shot Luna one last reassuring smile before stepping towards the white door of the operating theatre. His hand was on the doorknob before he felt a familiar hand on his left arm. He turned, about to explain _again_ how everything would be _absolutely fine_, but instead of a pair of wide, worried eyes, Ed was met with a pair of rosy lips on his cheek.

Luna drew back from the kiss just enough to make eye contact, and whispered, "Just in case you die."

She then gently pushed Ed into the theatre, as all motor functions had ceased as soon as he'd realised what had just happened.

As soon as he was through the door, Ed was met with blinding white lights and two angry Rockbells.

"Geez, Ed, what took you so long?"

"I..." Ed mumbled as he gazed, unseeing, at the operating table.

Winry sighed dramatically as she helped him lie down. "What's up with you? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Ed shook his head slowly, but offered no verbal reply.

Winry shrugged in disbelief. "Oh well. Now, are you going to pull yourself together enough to take your own trousers off, or am I gonna have to take them off for you?"

* * *

><p>Strangely, it hurt less than Ed thought it would. It hurt like fuck, obviously, but it didn't quite feel as if he was rotting in the fires of hell like it had last time. <em>Maybe it was because I knew what was coming<em>, Ed mused dreamily as he laid on the metal table, oblivious to the stench of blood and metal and the severed leg Granny was attempting to dispose of. _Or maybe it was because my leg hurt so much already, the pain didn't come as so much of a shock..._

"Granny, where did you put the drill?"

"I don't know. Look under the table."

_Or maybe it was because of-_

Ed stopped short as he felt his face flush. To be truthful, he'd been only half-aware of the whole ordeal, his mind feeling as if it was overloading from the automail and Luna mixed together in such a short space of time. His head was swimming with questions: was it a tradition wherever she comes from? Was it just Luna being Luna? Did Luna really like him like that?

_Do I really like Luna like that?_

The question popped into his head unbidden, and he suddenly found himself even more confused than before. Yes, he liked Luna. He liked her a _lot_; they'd become really quite close since Ed had come here. But did he like her in _that_ way? Ed screwed his face up in frustration. _Stupid girls have to be so damn confusing, don't they?_

Ed jumped as Winry tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"I know it hurts, Ed, but we've got to move you to another room for your recovery. You can't stay in this one for months on end."

It was then that the pain whacked Ed in the face a few times, dropped an anvil on his knee and tore off his toes one by one.

He bit his tongue to keep from screaming, and immediately tasted blood. He couldn't do anything but nod, giving Winry permission to pull a hospital gown over his head to hide his boxers and hoist him into her arms as she began to carry him to his room.

The first thing that greeted Ed's sore eyes was the dim lighting - or at least, it _seemed_ dim in comparison to that horrid operating theatre. The second was a familiar round face, blue eyes wide with worry as she walked beside the taller girl.

"Will he be okay?" Luna asked Winry, though she never broke eye contact with Ed.

Winry nodded hesitantly. "He'll be fine, but... who are you?"

"I'm... a friend," Luna murmured.

Winry smiled. "Are you a patient here too?"

Luna nodded.

"Is it nice here? They're not locking you all in padded cells, are they?" Winry half-joked.

Had it not been for the heartbreakingly pained look on Ed's face, Luna probably would've laughed. "No, I like it here."

"That's good."

Silence ensued for the rest of the journey as Luna guided Winry through countless identical corridors to Ed's room.

"Here." Luna gestured to the plain door, the numbers 108 being the only defining feature.

Winry nudged the door open with a foot, raising an eyebrow as she found it unlocked. She didn't question it, however, and merely set Ed down on the mattress.

The two girls watched Ed for a moment, before Luna whispered so quietly Winry barely heard her, "He'll be okay, right?"

Winry nodded. "I do this all the time, and nothing's ever gone wrong before. Besides, this is Ed we're talking about. He's not gonna let something as petty as automail surgery kill him after everything he's been through."

The corners of Luna's mouth turned up slightly in a lopsided smile. "So what happens now? How long does it take for him to get better? Are you going to stay here until he does?"

Winry sighed, flopping down onto a nearby chair. "It generally takes about three years to fully recover from automail surgery, but Ed is... y'know, Ed. Last time, he was 'back to normal' in a year; he was functioning on a basic level within about nine months. This time, he knows what automail's like, so he knows what to expect; also, he's only gained half an automail limb, rather than two. So I bet he'll be walking without a crutch in about six months, and running in about ten.

"And no, I'm not going to stay here. I have a life, y'know." Winry grinned. "I'll be here once a week for checkups, but other than that someone else will have to be in charge of looking after him, making sure he gets rest and forcing the medication down his throat if they have to."

Luna got the message, and nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

* * *

><p>"How is he?"<p>

Winry didn't smile as she answered. "He'll be fine. Give him a week or two to get past the fever, and he should be his normal self."

Anderson's mouth moved into a position resembling a smile, though his eyes stayed blank and cold. "That's good to hear."

Winry nodded, leaning most of her body weight onto one foot and attempting to look as relaxed as possible. _I can see what Ed meant about this guy. He gives me the creeps._ "Though I have lots of other patients waiting for me back home, so..."

"Oh yes," Anderson chuckled. "Don't let me keep you." He waved a gloved hand towards the door in a friendly dismissal, and Winry swiftly complied, not wanting to stand in that office a moment longer than necessary.

There were no words of goodbye uttered as she shut the door behind her and headed for Ed's room to finish explaining the details to her nurse-in-training.

* * *

><p>"So..." Luna murmured dreamily as she picked up the largest needle. "This is once every day, before breakfast."<p>

Winry nodded.

"This," Luna pointed to the smaller needle with her other hand, "is twice a day... And these," Luna stated, pointing to the numerous different pill bottles, "are all three times a day after every meal."

Winry nodded again, impressed. "You remember how to do injections?"  
>"Like you showed me." Luna did a small fake demonstration on Winry's arm, to which Winry grinned.<p>

"Yup. And don't forget that after a week, the green pills are only once a day, on an empty stomach, the injections stop after four weeks and the medicine stops altogether after eight weeks, apart from the red pills, which stop after six months."

Luna sighed as she took in all the new - and confusing - information regarding Ed's medicine. "Don't worry. I can remember it all. My father always used to say I have an extraordinary memory," Luna giggled. "This is nothing."

Winry raised a slightly sceptical eyebrow. "All right, but if you _do_ forget anything, you can just call me on that number I gave you, okay?"

Luna nodded, mimicking Winry as she stood up to leave. "Thank you."

Winry blinked, momentarily surprised. "No need to thank me. It's my job, after all." She winked as she exited the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Luna turned back to the blonde boy lying on the bed. She gently turned over the cloth on his forehead, before reaching over him, one knee on the mattress, and opening the window.

"L-Luna," Ed breathed, recognising her through the fever-induced haze.

Luna paused, her hand still on the window handle, and glanced down. Winry had said he wouldn't be talking for at least a day or two because the fever, pain and medicine all together would just be too much for him to handle.

_Apparently_, Luna mused as a shaky hand lifted to tug at her purple cardigan, _Winry was wrong_.

"What's...?" Ed whispered, his voice scratchy and barely there. He was panting slightly from the fever.

"Shhh..." Luna whispered back, placing a cool finger over his lips. "Everything's okay, Ed. Winry says it's just a fever. You should be fine in a few days."

Ed blinked sluggishly. "It... hurts. My leg," Ed whispered, despite the finger covering his parted lips. He winced in pain and his breath hitched as he attempted to sit up. "Al..."

"Ed, look at me," Luna ordered gently, one hand on his shoulder to firmly push him back down and the other on his cheek to turn his face to hers. "It's the medicine," she whispered. "You're delirious."

Ed's brow wrinkled in hazed confusion. "But..."

Luna shook her head gently as Ed complied, lying back down. "Go to sleep."

"Can't... Hurts."

Luna considered this for a moment, before slowly sitting on the bed. "Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?"

Ed blinked for a moment, offering no resistance to the idea.

Luna smiled and began to sing.

* * *

><p>"<em>What happened? Did everything go okay? Is he all right? Nothing went wrong, did it? Will he be okay? What if-<em>"

"Yes," Winry cut Al off irritably. "Ed will be fine. Stop worrying over nothing."

"_But you're not there with him, so how do you know he's okay? Maybe he's not! Maybe he's dying right now from some operational complication-_"

"I know he's okay, Al. Ed has a friend over there. I told her what to do, and to call me if anything goes wrong. She hasn't called yet, so he's okay."

There was a moment of silence, before Al said hesitantly, "_A... friend?_"

Winry smirked on her end of the line. "Yeah. A friend. Why, does that surprise you?"

"_N-no, it's just that nii-san doesn't make friends very easily, and most of the people over there are... you know, and- wait, it's a girl?"_

Winry's feeble attempts at hiding her laughter had no effect on Al. "Yeah, Al, it's a girl. Quite a cute one, if I do say so myself."

There was another silence, this time much longer and somewhat strained on Al's end.

"_... Are they... you know?"_

"Who knows," Winry said casually, knowing it would send the blonde into even more of a panic. His constant concern and worry for his brother was sweet, really, though sometimes Winry couldn't help winding him up. Unfortunately for Al, this happened to be one of those times.

"_You mean they might be?_" Al squeaked hysterically on the other end. "_Why didn't nii-san tell me about this? I mean, they have phones there, don't they? Of course, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to phone you, but maybe it's broken! Do you think he likes her so much he's forgotten about me? Or maybe he couldn't tell me because she's secretly a boy and he was afraid of my reaction! Maybe they're on some secret love mission -_"

Winry couldn't take it anymore. She burst into raucous laughter, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes as she answered. "You're being absolutely ridiculous, Al. 'Secret love mission'? What the hell?"

Al's blush was almost audible through the phone line. "_I-I'm just... surprised. Stop laughing!_"

"Yeah, yeah," Winry giggled. "Of course. I'm hanging up now."

"_Wait, wha-_"

There was a click as Winry put down the phone, stretching and smiling to herself at Al's antics.

She flopped down on the white sofa in her hotel room, sighing from the relief. She's been on her feet all day, and it was nice to finally relax.

Though she couldn't quite fully relax, as there was a small part of her that couldn't help wondering whether they really _were_... 'you know'.


	13. Twelve: Recovery

**OHMYGOD LOOK FUCKING SHIT LOOK I'VE UPDATED**

**I really do apologise to all my readers for the year-long wait. I've just been really busy and lost my muse completely, but recently I found it again and YES BITCHES, HERE IT IS.**

**Expect another (reasonably) quick update (though no promises) because I've just started the summer holidays here so I have a whole month to do nothing :D**

**I hope this chapter was worth the wait...**

**Disclaimer~**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve - Recovery<strong>

* * *

><p><em>One week later<em>

"_How is he?_"

Luna bit her lip. "Fine, but the fever hasn't gone yet."

"_Hmmm... Are you sure you've been giving him the right doses?_"

Luna nodded vigorously. "Definitely! I haven't made a single mistake. I would never be so careless as to endanger his life like that."

Winry could be heard giggling softly on the other end. "_Making one mistake with his medicine isn't going to kill him, Luna. You don't need to worry so much. Just relax; his fever took four weeks to disappear last time. This is perfectly normal_."

"Are you sure?"

"_I'm positive. Now, apart from the fever, how is he holding up?_"

"Good. The leg isn't rejecting the automail like you said it could, and there's practically no inflammation, though there is this one spot beneath the left screw that keeps bleeding."

Winry's voice was concerned when she replied. "_How much?_"

"Not that much, just a few drops, but..." Luna bit deeper into her lip, drawing blood. "I patch the wound up and stop it bleeding, but the next day it tears and bleeds again."

There was a brief silence as Winry contemplated this, before Luna heard her sigh. "_Well, it's about time I came over for a check-up anyway, so I guess I'll see for myself. I'll be there in about an hour_."

"Mm, okay. Bye."

"_Bye_."

Winry promptly hung up, though Luna continued to clutch onto the phone for another few minutes, as if the mechanic's knowledge and guidance would somehow seep through the phone line and Luna would know what to do.

She was so focused as she stared at the boy lying so peacefully in front of her that she didn't even hear the muffled clunk as the phone slipped out of her grasp and hit the carpet.

_He looks so peaceful..._ she mused. _Almost like he's dead. _There was an unpleasant tugging sensation in her chest as she considered that, and she sighed.

She started violently as someone rapped on the door.

"Luna?" Winry's muffled voice cut through the sturdy wooden door, and Luna darted off the side of the mattress where she'd been sitting to open it.

"Winry." Luna gazed up into the older girl's face with worry, and Winry placed a kind hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be fine. I remember there was quite a bit of trouble when I attached his shoulder port, and it was perfectly okay in the end."

Though the gentle reassurance did nothing to even out the twist in Luna's gut.

"I thought you said you'd be here in an hour."

Winry hesitated, her eyebrows furrowed slightly in puzzlement. "I did. It's six o'clock."

Luna blinked, her hair flying as she whipped her head to look at the clock behind her. "But..."

Winry laughed weakly as she returned to unpacking her equipment. "I guess you lost track of time."

Luna continued to stare at the second hand, watching it like a vulture while it jumped jarringly around the blank white face as she whispered, "I guess I did."

* * *

><p>A soft knock could be heard from Dr. Anderson's door, and he looked up, half his attention still on the patient summaries scattered over his desk. He mumbled distractedly, "Come in," and Luna slowly opened the door, as if afraid to wake someone.<p>

"Is this a bad time?" She asked airily, and Anderson looked up, setting down the files and considering the young girl in front of him; how... different she looked.

"No, not at all." Anderson showed a kind smile, gesturing to the well-worn leather seat in front of his desk, behind which he relaxed into his own chair.

Luna complied, shuffling over to the proffered chair and sitting, though she looked no less relaxed than she had done standing up. "Doctor, there's..."

When she didn't finish her sentence, Anderson offered, "Something you want to tell me?"

Luna took in a deep breath, looking up and meeting his gaze.

What Anderson saw in those eyes was not what he had been expecting. Every other time she had made eye contact, looked him in the face, her expression had been nonchalant and her eyes glazed, as if she wasn't really speaking to _him_ at all, but to someone or something very far away. As kind as Luna was, there had never been much depth to those pale cerulean irises.

However, as Luna sat on the very edge of the seat, every muscle in her petite body tensed and rigid - _much like Elric on his first visit_ - those pretty blue eyes were not just a shallow paddling pool, but an _ocean_, and he would have been lying if Anderson had claimed that he wasn't frozen in pure shock and awe at the thrashing storm of emotion in those once bland eyes.

_When did this simple child learn to have that kind of look in her eye?_

Luna drew in another deep breath in preparation, before saying quickly, letting the words string together slightly: "Ed's operation went smoothly, and at the moment he's sleeping off the fever in his room."

Anderson blinked.

Luna's small, balled fists were still trembling, and Anderson wondered vaguely if he'd missed the point.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and soft. "Pardon me, but... isn't that a _good_ thing?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, the white-blonde teen tentatively nodded.

A pair of silver-framed glasses were dropped to the messy desk below as Anderson let out a quiet huff of a chuckle, rubbing the bridge of his hooked nose. "Oh, Luna... Only you."

Luna resembled a startled rabbit at the unexpected reaction, and her eyes widened with alarm as the white-clad doctor's laughs grew in volume.

Anderson recovered from the mild outburst relatively quickly, although a disbelieving smirk remained, twisting the corners of his mouth upwards and distorting his original frightening persona. "Trust you to come to my office looking like you'd just seen someone being murdered in order to relay good news that I was already aware of."

He chuckled once more, before replacing his glasses and shooing Luna out of the room off-handedly. "Go, go. I'm sure Elric misses you."

It seemed Luna was practising her animal impressions that day, as now she looked rather like a confused goldfish.

"Go!" Anderson urged, though he was... _grinning_?

Luna high-tailed it out of the office, forgetting - _again_ - to shut the door behind her.

As Anderson wearily stood to close it, he wondered idly if that dusting of pink on the girl's cheeks just then had been because of the humid summer heatwave, or perhaps something else entirely

* * *

><p><em>Two months later<em>

"No."

Luna pursed her lips in mild annoyance, fretting as she once again attempted to persuade Ed to take his medicine. "Ed, if you don't take the medicine, the nargles will be angry, and they get violent when they're angry."

"I said no, and I meant it!" Ed bellowed, crossing his arms immaturely and glaring out of his bedside window with one angry eye.

"But Ed," Luna sighed, "I'm just concerned for your safety. I don't want the nargles to eat you, and I doubt you do either."

Ed stayed stubbornly silent.

Luna lowered the proffered hand with four outrageously coloured pills in and stared blankly at the side of Ed's face, deciding it was impossible to win a verbal argument with Ed.

An expression of mild surprise and concern flashed across her pale features when the blue-tinged morning sunrays reflected off the glistening tears that Ed was valiantly battling.

A defiant sniff broke the silent contest, and Luna sighed in some unnameable emotion when she spotted a lone tear dripping down Ed's scarred cheek. "This is another one of your mood swings, isn't it?" she asked in resignation, though it sounded more like a statement to the emotional boy, who simply nodded, for fear of his voice cracking if he attempted to verbalise his current sorrowful state.

Ed's facial expression didn't change, though the tears kept coming and Luna wondered if the episode would be over quickly or if she'd need to book Ed an emergency therapy session again.

Luna frowned, unused to seeing people cry - especially boys - and unsure of what exactly should be done. Back home, she would have simply conjured up his favourite meal, or cast a happiness spell, but she'd lost her wand somewhere in the transition to this world, and so was, in effect, a muggle.

_How do muggles comfort each other?_

Ed let out a choked gasp as he felt warm arms wrap around his slight frame, and he turned to face a smiling Luna in surprise.

"Y-you..." he murmured, his deep voice raspy.

"Shhh," Luna commanded from her awkwardly twisted position on the bed, legs tangled up in her lilac and scarlet striped summer dress. "Don't speak."

He complied, mismatched arms hesitantly encircling her tiny waist.

They remained that way for a while - Ed wasn't quite sure how long, since time seemed to have lost meaning as soon as Luna buried her face in the dip of his collarbone - even though he was sure it must be awkward and uncomfortable for Luna, and even though her body heat was causing him to grow uncomfortably warm.

The alchemist's grip around her waist tightened fractionally when he realised he _liked_ the feeling.

* * *

><p>Luna grinned dreamily into the receiver. "Well he's been a bit difficult, but I've always managed to persuade him otherwise."<p>

"_Really?_" Winry's voiced raised in pleasant surprise. "_Every time?_"

"Yes," Luna stated proudly. "He hasn't missed even one round of medication."

Winry's laugh was bell-like on the other line. "_Wow, Luna, I'm impressed! Even _I_ could never get Ed to take medicine if he didn't want to. When Al wasn't around to force it down his throat, I'd have to knock him out and feed it to him when he was unconscious,_" the teen chimed happily, as if the memories she was recollecting were fond ones.

Luna laughed airily in reply, also seemingly unfazed by the somewhat disturbing memory. "Yes, he does appear to be that stubborn."

"Who's stubborn?" a gravelly voice inquired.

Luna blinked, gasping quietly in mild surprise. Her shimmering blonde hair whipped around as she turned to face the limping teen. "..._Ed_?" she breathed.

Winry's voice was heard shrieking many bad words at the boy even as the phone slipped out of Luna's weak grip.

Luna's eyes shined like pale azure moons, her stare unyielding, as she very slowly padded over to the amber-eyed man, her bare feet silent on the white tile. When she spoke, it was as if every syllable was so carefully thought out, and her feathery voice was hardly more than a whisper.

"How are you standing?"

Ed barked out a laugh and gestured to the wall. "Technically I'm not standing, I'm leaning."

"You're on your feet, Ed. I would be speechless even if you managed to stand with my help; but you managed to walk down the corridor _by yourself_, and it's only been two months!"

Ed snickered at her, and she found his lopsided grin quite contagious as she herself smiled in baffled amazement. "It's actually a bit of a cop-out," Ed chuckled, rubbing an automail hand on the back of his neck. "The crutches are just around the corner out of sight, and it took me about fifteen minutes to drag myself the twenty metres to get here. I'm surprised you didn't hear me swearing as I approached, actually."

Luna didn't seem fazed by Ed's devaluation; she continued to beam at him in delight and - was that a hint of pride he detected?

"The simple fact that you aren't sprawled on the floor in agony right now is astounding," Luna whispered, her face just inches away from Ed's own.

Both teens were harshly yanked back into reality as Winry's voice had reached a new record for volume, and Luna hurried to pick up the receiver that she'd left dangling from the wall socket. "Winry?"

She flinched as a shrill, manic voice screamed in her ear, holding the phone away as if it had a pungent smell.

Ed had not dared move from his position leaning casually against the wall, as his crutches were now out of reach and if he attempted to walk without them he was sure he would regret it. Even from a few metres away, though, he could hear every earsplitting word clear as day.

"_What do you mean 'Ed', Luna?_"

"He's here-" Luna answered quickly in fear of inciting the mechanic's infamous wrath, though her gaze remained firmly on Ed, who had readjusted his position so his back was against the wall.

"_I thought you didn't have a phone in your room!_"

"... He doesn't."

There was a long, tense pause.

"_Ed... is standing?_"

"Mm," Luna confirmed confidently as she watched the blonde teen hum tunelessly to himself as he daydreamed a few metres away. "Definitely."

"... _I'm amazed. Really. I never thought he'd be on his feet this quickly. Still, don't let him move around too much, or he'll end up injuring himself further."_"

Luna nodded vigorously. "Okay."

"_I should be there for the checkup tomorrow, so I'll double-check that the leg's working okay then. But in the meantime, since he seems to be able to move the leg now, could you check that the joints bend properly?"_

"Okay, I definitely will."

"_See you both tomorrow then, Luna._"

"Yes, goodbye, Winry. Have a safe trip."

"_A safe trip?_"

Luna giggled, nodding knowledgeably at the blind receiver. "Yes, there might be Death Eaters around, you know."

"_... Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Bye, Luna._" Winry promptly hung up after her uncertain reply.

Said girl, however, did not seem fazed by Winry's awkward behaviour at all; in fact, she completely ignored it in favour of all but dragging a certain eyepatched teen back to his room.

"I'm _fine_, Luna-"

She simply hushed him as she looped a slender arm around his ribcage and wandered gradually back towards Ed's room, her steps in sync with Ed's awkward limp.

She pretended not to hear the pained hiss of breath every time his weight shifted to his right foot.

* * *

><p><em>Three weeks later<em>

Al strode briskly up to the looming double doors, not sparing a second glance at his loaned military automobile (currently the sole vehicle in the modest car park) as he passed the welcoming sign '_Welcome to Rosefields Psychiatric Hospital_'.

He raised a hand to knock before noticing the bored receptionist sitting behind a battered desk, and tentatively pushed open the glass door.

She had looked about ready to drift off, her head lolling in her small palms, but at the sound of Alphonse's entrance her head snapped up, and she greeted him with her brightest smile. Al was a little taken aback by the service.

"Hello sir, how may I hel-" Liz paused as she took in the handsome figure standing gracefully before her, eyeing him up and down without restraint. "Ooh my, aren't you gorgeous?"

Al was slightly startled at the blunt comment, clearing his throat and shifting in place out of embarrassment. "That's... very nice of you to say," he replied politely, mustering his best smile.

Liz looked slightly taken aback by her own words - Al supposed it had been a slip of the tongue - but she went with the flow anyway. "Aww, and you're sweet to match!" Liz sighed dramatically, placing a well-manicured hand over her heart. "I bet a man like you must have women falling at your feet."

"Um..." Al shrugged noncommittally, slightly flushed at the attention.

"Oh sorry," Liz laughed, "Am I embarrassing you? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

Al joined the laughter easily, waving it off. "It's okay. I don't mind."

Liz's charming smile didn't drop, even as the topic of conversation moved to more mundane matters.

"So what is a Prince Charming like you doing in a place like this anyway?" she questioned lightly, sifting through various papers absent-mindedly. "Please tell me you're job-hunting. I'd _love_ to have a face like yours around here."

"I'm here to visit my brother, actually," Al chuckled kindly. "Sorry to disappoint."

Liz mock-pouted before opening her mouth to ask him who, exactly, his brother was. However, she didn't manage to get the words out of her mouth before her jaw dropped to the floor with a harsh _slam_ as she put two and two together.

_Those golden eyes, those perfect cheekbones, that charming grin-_

"Y-you..." she stammered out of shock, before quickly regaining her composure, though she was clearly still slightly stunned. "I assume you're Alphonse Elric, then? Here to see Ed?"

Al nodded enthusiastically, bending over the desk to get a better look at what she was doing. "Have you heard if he's okay? No after-effects of the operation? He's still fine?"

Liz nodded, shooting him an odd look. "I thought I heard him talking to you just the other day. It _is_ you that he's been killing our phone bill talking to, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah, but that was three days ago, I thought maybe..." he trailed off, chuckling nervously.

There was an extended pause as Liz gaped, wide-eyed, at the seventeen-year-old. "_Seriously?_ You really care about him, don't you? Wow, I don't think that kid realises just how lucky he is to have an older brother like you."

Al's expression was slightly taken aback, and he tipped his head slightly in confusion for a moment before bursting out in raucous laughter at the realisation of the receptionist's mistake. He could barely see Liz's shocked expression through his tears of laughter as he managed to get out, in a somewhat strangled tone, "_Nii-san_ is the older brother, Miss. I'm a year younger than him."

Her jaw went lax as she murmured breathlessly, "No way. You look about five years older than him! How old _are_ you?"

"Seventeen," he squeaked out through the remaining giggles.

She moaned. "Oh no, now I feel so old! I though you were at least twenty-one."

Al was still grinning wildly, even long after the laughter had ceased. "I get that a lot."

"I bet you do, with a face like that. The only thing that gives it away is your physique - still a bit lanky, eh?"

Al nodded in a friendly manner. _You don't know the half of it_.

Just as Liz was about to continue the amusing small-talk, a wispy voice drifted over to them from the doorway. "Liz, Ed sent me to collect his medicine for..." Luna's dirty blonde head slowly turned to face Al with a thoughtful expression. "You're his little brother," she stated in wonder. It wasn't a question.

Al hesitantly nodded, unsure of what to say to the mysterious girl. She was a little on the short side and quite pale, and her messy waist-length hair was the colour of fresh cream. She openly stared at Al, with a distant, thoughtful glint in her bright, gleaming steel-blue eyes.

"Follow me," she commanded softly, turning on her heel and drifting back down the corridor. It was clear who she was referring to, and Al politely excused himself before trotting after her, still a little confused.

_Now that I think about it, _Al mused as he trod in the mysterious girl's footsteps down the numerous winding corridors and staircases, _Winry and nii-san both mentioned something about a female friend of his..._ Al narrowed his eyes in thought. _Maybe this is her?_

Al had unconsciously caught up to her, his strides being far longer, and by the time they reached Room 108 and Luna halted abruptly in front of the door, Al was so close he almost tripped over her in surprise.

"We're here. Come in, I'm sure he'd like to see you," Luna said cheerily, smiling dreamily at Al before pulling him inside.

"Nii-san?" Al asked cautiously to the blonde boy hunched over a thick tome on his bed.

Ed's nose twitched and he glanced up at the tall teenager gracing his presence. "Al...?" he murmured quietly. "Al!" he exclaimed, and it was obvious he was having to physically restrain himself from leaping up to greet his younger brother. "Why didn't you warn me you were coming?"

"'Warn'? You make it sound like my visiting is a bad thing, nii-san," Al chuckled gleefully, throwing himself at Ed.

The brothers continued to converse enthusiastically - although they'd talked every other day on the phone, Al had been too busy juggling his work at a florist with his part-time employment as Mustang's secretary (it had quickly become obvious to Al that 'part-time' was a serious understatement, and for the first couple of weeks Al had practically been drowning in unorganised paperwork) to visit Ed in person.

Luna discreetly excused herself, shutting the door quietly behind her - although those men were so enraptured in conversations that were beyond her that she doubted they'd have batted an eyelash if she'd slammed it in their faces.

She wandered off in a daze towards Anderson's office - she really should have a talk with him about moving a telephone to Ed's room so he didn't have to stumble downstairs every second day...

There was a soft click - in any other circumstance, Luna would have ignored it, thinking it to be Ed's automail, but now Ed was nowhere to be seen.

"Hello?" she called warily into the corridor.

There was no reply, but there was a startled grunt and a succession of achingly familiar metallic clicks - _Yes, those are definitely from automail._

Luna stood statue-still. She didn't even dare to breathe. She listened again for the clicking noise, but it was deathly silent. No one was in sight.

Luna could feel panic bubbling in her chest now. She swirled around, hoping for a sign of life. Still there was no reply, though she knew someone was there. They'd grunted and given away their presence.

"Who are you?" she called. Her voice was tense with desperation. She'd never liked horror films.

"L-Luna..."

She gasped and shot in the direction of the voice. It had been raspy, and clearly in a lot of pain.

As she rounded the final corner and looked upon the hunched and bloodied figure trembling in pain on the sterile ground, her jaw dropped, and she let out an unearthly scream.


End file.
